The Adventures of Scar and Lex in Manhattan
by TheGuyWithTheGun
Summary: Edit: Season 2. When Coat falls asleep, Lex & Scar must deal with the many resulting reactions, such as bleedthroughs from other universes! LexxScar
1. Prologue

BOUVETOYA ISLAND, ANTARCTICA, OCTOBER 10, 2004

Fires raged. Acidic blood seeped into the snow-covered ground at the mouth of the gaping abyss in the ice-floor of the most secluded place on earth. Also at the mouth of this cavern stood two figures.

One was human; a woman named Alexa Woods, an environmental technician.

The other was not of this world; a freshly blooded Yautja dubbed by Alexa as Scar.

Both were enjoying a victory; Lex because she was glad to be alive, Scar because he had won -- he had earned his rite of passage, signified by the mark which he wore on his mask and his forehead. Lex also bore this mark -- upon the side of her face; Scar had blooded her with the mark of his family, for she was now a fellow hunter. She had shown valor in the heat of battle, first killing a warrior of the Hard Meat, then sending the very Queen herself to the cold abyss. Yes, Scar appreciated this Soft Meat female in many ways. She would make an excellent hunter -- maybe even an acceptable mate...

No!

She was Soft Meat. Not Yautja. She was as much prey as the Hard Meat larva he destroyed within the pyramid after he had marked himself.

Yet, this Alexa intrigued him somehow... enough to mark her with his family symbol.

Suddenly, lights shone about as an enormous craft appeared before them; it was the Home Craft of the Predators, a dispatch office, so to speak. But one of high honor.

Stepping from the ramp was an older Yautja -- he was about a hundred and fifty years older than Scar, judging from the quills that grew from his face. His name was S'bal, but Scar knew him only as Father.

"Father," Scar said (in his native language) in a tone of reverence, kneeling before the Elder, arms spread.

"Stand, my son."

Scar did so, but kept his head bowed in respect.

"G'raal, my son, where are P'jan and Krom'le?"

"I am shamed to say that they have fallen," Scar informed his Father solemnly.

"Yet here you stand," said Scar's Father, "now a hunter of the Yautja. Now you are..."

The Elder suddenly noticed, behind Scar, a small, skinny figure -- a Soft Meat female, he recognized it to be.

"G'raal, why have you let this Soft Meat live?" He motioned to Lex, who had begun to fidget with her Hard Meat-tailspear.

"She is not like the others, Father," said Scar respectfully, "She is a good hunter. Perhaps as good as we."

Scar's Father took note of the mark upon the side of Lex's face. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"You have marked this Ooman!" Roared the Elder.

"Father, she is a Hunter -- "

"Silence! This is a disgrace to the clan. You realize that you have shamed yourself by leveling with prey."

Scar's shoulders dropped in shame.

"Yes."

"I am sorry to do this, but you may not join the others in the hunt. You will forever bear the mark of the Badblood."

"I understand, Father."

"You must give up your combi stick and your caster."

Scar dejectedly removed his plasma caster from his shoulder, folded his spear, handed the weapons to his Father."

"I am sorry, son. I wish you a good life on this planet."

Scar simply clicked a solemn "good-bye".

With that, the Elder turned, headed up the ramp, back into the Home Craft. The massive space ship lifted from the ground, cloaking itself once more.

Scar and Lex stood speechless for a moment.

Finally, Lex said, "Now what?"


	2. Episode 1 Scar vs Lex's Apartment

I do not own Lex or Scar, but their adventures in Manhattan are my creation, along with any other characters within said adventures.

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MANHATTAN ISLAND, TWO WEEKS LATER

Even though Scar had a thorough knowledge of the English language, he couldn't quite grasp Lex's meaning of "apartment". He understood it to be a dwelling of some kind, but he couldn't manage to see living within these huge, vertical buildings. As one who traveled through space, he was used to many things such as heights and cramped living.

But for some reason, just looking at this building made him nauseous.

"How are you doing there, Scar?"

He really couldn't express his anxiety about the strange building to his Ooman friend, so he curled his four fingers in, left his thumb up; a gesture Lex had taught him, meaning "everything is good". He found human gestures intriguing.

The enormous Yautja hunter was currently dressed in a long, black trench coat and a fedora to hide his obvious "inhumanities". He still wore his mask, seeing as it was considerably better than showing his face.

Suddenly, Scar noticed that Lex had moved ahead, toward the entrance to the building, while Scar was still where he had been when they exited the taxicab.

For some reason, he couldn't move.

"Something wrong, Scar?"

He shook his head, his long dreadlocks waving.

He wanted to move. He really did. But somehow, after all of the Hard Meat he had killed, this strange building had managed to evoke a strange reaction.

He was terrified.

"Scar..."

Alright, thought the Yautja, Time to move.

He managed to gain enough strength to shuffle to the entrance, which was a strange, revolving device that terrified Scar even more than the building itself.

"What on earth is wrong, Scar? It's a revolving door," said Lex irritably. "You've hunted aliens all your life and your afraid of a door?"

If this had been a normal Ooman, Scar would've delighted in putting a blade or two through her skull. But she was his friend. Almost a sister.

Maybe more... he thought, but quickly shook the notion from his head.

"Are you coming, or what?"

Scar nodded, then eyed the revolving portal of doom once more.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he stepped through.

When he opened them once more, he was in a large room with a shining marble floor.

This wasn't so bad.

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Scar felt certain that he was going to die.

He was trapped in a small box with thin, beige-colored walls. All he knew was that they were going up, and with every blink of the lights above the unopening door, he felt closer to his impending doom. It wasn't until he saw Lex cringe that he noticed that he was crushing her hand. He quickly released it, and she immediately began to massage her hand. It was very possible he had just broken it. He looked at her with sympathy, which she somehow registered.

"It's okay," She said, the pain showing in her voice.

She looked up, saw that the light now rested on "10". The doors opened, and Scar felt he could breathe again.

"Let's go put some ice on this, shall we?"

She took Scar's hand in her undamaged one, led him out of the elevator into the hallway. After walking down the tight, white-and-red wallpapered hallway, Lex and Scar reached another -- albeit smaller -- portal. This one was brown, made of wood -- a strange, course material that Scar was not very familiar with. It was adorned with a metal plate that bore the numerals "142". Using her good hand, Lex removed a small keychain from her pocket, which housed only a few keys. She selected one, put it in the lock, turned it, and the door opened. Inside, the room was smallish, but large for a common apartment. Everything was decorated in shades of dark red, and smelled of fresh leather.

Strangely, the place reminded Scar of home...

"I'm not here much," Said Lex, heading to the kitchen, "I travel a lot for work."

Scar clicked in understanding.

"I guess that's how I met you."

Scar suddenly realized that he was alone, and that he was having a bit of trouble breathing. He removed his mask, stretched his cramped mandibles that had been trapped within his mask ever since Antarctica. He also removed the fedora from his head, the trench coat from his shoulders. The room was warm.

Lex returned from the kitchen, holding a bag of ice against her hand. She was trying to wrap a bandage around the bag, to secure it to her throbbing hand.

Seeing as she wasn't having an easy time of it, Scar took the bandage, began to wrap it around Lex's hand himself. Lex found him to be surprisingly gentle.

The woman caught herself looking into the hunter's eyes, looked away, her dark cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

If Scar could've, he would've blushed as well.

Lex took her hand away, massaged it.

"Thanks."

Scar clicked a Yautja "you're welcome", and Lex nodded.

Why was Scar acting this way? She was an Ooman. What was wrong with him?

Who was he kidding? She was the reason he was marked as a Badblood. He couldn't help feeling what he did...

I guess I'll have to live with it, though the predator.


	3. Episode 2 Scar vs Manhattan

Lex & Scar Copyright 20th Century Fox.

Their Adventures Copyright Me

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MANHATTAN ISLAND, OCTOBER 29, 2004

The thing coiled in front of Scar like some demented, obscene snake. It was long and serpentine, topped with a chrome-colored head. It hissed in Scar's face as if to mock him, spat a stream of hot liquid into the Predator's face. Scar roared...

...and threw down the spray head, growling angrily.

Lex had been doing most of the dishes after breakfast, so Scar had decided to help. He knew the gist of it, putting the water and the cleaning agent into the sink, wiping the dishes with the cloth...

What he couldn't master was this confounded sprayer. No matter what way he pointed the thing, it always managed to drench him.

Lex just managed to confine a chuckle to a slight snicker.

Scar glared at her, clicked in frustration.

Lex noticed his alien expression (she'd gotten rather good at it).

"It's alright, Scar. Nobody's good with dishes."

She spoke the words, but Scar noticed that her amused expression didn't waver. Instead of getting angry with his Ooman friend, Scar simply once more scooped up the sprayer, clicked a stream of angry curses at it, and once more threw it into the sink.

"Piece of plank," Scar said in his own, flawed version of English.

"Crap," corrected Lex, "Piece of crap."

Scar looked at her, looked at the sprayer. At her again.

"Yes. Crap," he said finally.

"Yes. Better."

She suddenly looked to her watch, realized the time was indeed 8:45 AM.

"I gotta go."

She turned to leave, and the large Yautja trailed behind her.

"Go? Where?"

"Work, Scar. Remember? I got that job at the bank."

She was in a hurry, and she rushed to the door as she flung her coat over her shoulders.

"What... What I do?"

"I dunno. But you've got the keys. You can go out if you want, but you'll have to keep a low profile."

Scar nodded in understanding; stealth was one of the things he knew best.

"Just remember the English I taught you."

Before Scar could say another word, Lex was already out the door and gone.

Scar stood there, in the middle of the room, for a long while. Finally, his eyes found their way to the far wall, where hung his coat, fedora and mask.

Why not?

Scar walked along the crowded street, his disguise now in place. People bustled about their various tasks, and Scar took interest in the fact that everyone seemed to be going somewhere. As if there was no such thing as a state of rest for these people, merely constant motion.

Various vehicles also crowded the street, moving all of two miles an hour. From what he had heard, these vehicles were run by an internal combustion engine, though it was beyond Scar why they would use something so primitive when they had already discovered electricity.

As Scar wandered the streets, he happened upon an ornamental water fountain. It was beautifully ornate, but its beauty was marred by the sight of several humans dressed in tattered clothes laying about its base.

Wondering what these humans could be possibly doing, Scar ventured closer. One of the humans called out to him from the ground.

"Hey, mister," the man said, bearing a slight speech impediment, "can ya spare some change?"

Scar searched his vocabulary; change... transition? Transformation? This man could certainly do with a change in appearance... but what did he expect Scar to do about that?

Scar cocked his head in confusion.

"Money," said the poorly man, "ya got money?"

Ah, money. This man wanted Scar to give him money.

But he didn't have any. In fact, the whole human currency system was completely alien to him. He had to tell the man that he was not from here. Alien, so to speak.

A word for alien, foreign...

"I'm Jamaican," Scar said, hoping he'd chosen the right words.

"Yeah," said the poor man, "I saw yer dreadlocks. What's that do for me?"

Scar was confused. Didn't the man understand him?

"I'm Jamaican," Scar persisted.

"Whatsamatta wit you? Ya deaf 'r somethin'?"

Scar was beginning to wonder the same thing about the poorly clothed human before him. Instead of continuing his endeavor to try to communicate with the man, Scar simply said, "Bye." and turned from the man, moving away from the fountain. Scar briefly saw the man raise his hand, separating one of his slender fingers from the rest. Scar had not been taught this gesture, and therefore was ignorant to its meaning.

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Another building, another sense of terror. But this one was different, in that there were many, many more people swarming about this structure called a "department store". The cold fall wind whipped at Scar as he reluctantly stepped through another one of those accursed revolving doors.

Once inside, Scar found the department store to be vast, spacious, with a brilliant marble floor and lights that hung from the high ceiling. It reminded Scar of a great hall of his people, except for those strange moving staircases...

Scar cautiously stepped toward the moving staircase, placed a single foot upon a step that, before Scar had time to withdraw, carried his foot upward. Stuck in an awkward position, Scar continued his ascent until he was doing a split, riding slowly to the next floor.

When he arrived at the top, Scar found himself once again surrounded by people. One area nearest to him was labeled "Perfumery", which Scar had no comprehension of.

But it certainly smelled good.

He headed towards the Perfumery, and as soon as he entered the department, he was confronted by a small female ooman. She held in her hand a small bottle.

"Would you care to sample our new passion fruit spray, sir?"

Scar looked at the bottle she held out to him.

Passion fruit? Spray?

Fruit...

Fruit!

Food!

The woman was offering him some sort of food...

Scar took the awkward container in his hand, lifted his mask slightly, sprayed the liquid into his mouth.

The woman looked shocked.

A tingling, burning sensation filled Scar's head, his brain, spread throughout his body.

The small ooman cringed slightly as Scar growled in delight.

Scar quickly undid the top of the bottle, swallowed the entire contents.

When Scar found there was none left in the bottle, he quickly went to one of the shelves, grabbed another bottle, emptied it.

This stuff was amazing!

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When the entire store was almost empty of perfume, store security arrived. They found Scar, still guzzling perfume, and shouted at him to halt.

"I am Jamaican!!!" Scar shouted, his speech slurred.

With that, he passed out.

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Lex's workday was going very well. She had a position as a teller, and she was probably one of the only polite ones you could find on the island. She had just finished helping a customer with a deposit when her cellphone rang. She checked the ID;

NYPD 6TH PRCNCT

The police department?

Lex pressed "talk".

"Lex!" said a slurred, gravelly voice.

Lex couldn't breathe; she recognized the voice.

"Scar?"

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At the 6th Precinct, Scar had such a large headache that he could hardly maintain his grip on the phone's handset. It was a wonder he had remembered Lex's cellphone number.

"Scar? What're you doing there?"

Scar painfully racked his brain for the right words.

"At cop house. Got... crapulous... from smell-good stuff. Need me get out."

"Got... what?"

Scar became agitated.

"Drunk! I have got drunk!"

"Alright, alright. I'll be down there shortly."

Scar felt relieved.

But he still had that hideous headache.

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Scar lay on Lex's soft, red-leather couch. It creaked slightly under his weight as he held a large bag of ice to his forehead. Lex sat on the couch next to him.

"You're lucky I have plenty of money left from the Antarctica job, or else I'd've never been able to pay that bail."

Scar clicked in reply, his mind still clouded from his "perfumery massacre".

"So you really drank a whole perfumery?"

Scar nodded.

"So much for keeping a low profile."


	4. Episode 3 Scar vs Halloween

Happy Halloween from Lex and Scar!

AvP and all characters are copyrighted by 20th Century Fox.

The Adventures of Lex & Scar, however, are not.

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MANHATTAN ISLAND, OCTOBER 31, 2004

Scar wasn't very happy right now.

Here he was, wandering through the street once more, but this time was slightly different.

This time, Scar was dressed in a ridiculously colorful outfit comprised of a colorful Hawaiian-type shirt and bright blue shorts. He carried a boom-box that evenly played reggae music.

This time, Scar was Jamaican.

He strode, smoldering, Lex at his side. She was dressed as tamely as Scar was extravagant; Lex was clad in brown pants, black boots, a brown, long-sleeved shirt beneath a red-brown leather vest. To her hip was attached a long, leather holster that housed an expensive-looking prop Winchester (lever-action, sawed off). From what she had told Scar, she was a character from a television series entitled "Firefly". Scar had never seen the series, and therefore couldn't grasp the reference.

As another person passed them, Lex said, "Happy Halloween."

"I'm Jamaican," Scar intoned.

"Scar, how many times do I have to say it," Lex said, becoming a little irritated with her companion, "everyone can see you're Jamaican. Say 'Happy Halloween'."

"Why?"

"Because it is Halloween."

A pause.

"Why?"

Lex groaned in annoyance.

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Wal-Mart.

The store that owns everything.

Or so Scar had been told.

It loomed before them almost the same way that department store did, but Wal-Mart was labeled with its own name by enormous bold-faced letters over its entrance.

"Why we here, Lex?"

"Because Halloween means candy prices are down."

Scar logged this definition away for future reference. "Halloween" was much easier to say than "candy prices are down".

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Wal-Mart wasn't half as bad as the department store; firstly, because there were none of those infernal moving staircases, and then because there wasn't a perfumery anywhere nearby.

On the way to the candy isle, Scar caught a glimpse of something on the home entertainment department.

On a screen, a weapon was grasped by some unseen character, gunning hordes of alien creatures down.

Scar moved towards the screen in a trancelike daze.

"Scar? The candy isle's this way..."

Scar didn't hear her, so when he reached the isle containing the screen, he wasn't expecting Lex to come up behind him and give him a sharp smack to the back of the head.

Snapping out of his reverie of wonder, Scar turned to her, growled sharply.

"What do you think you're doing, Scar?"

Scar pointed to the screen. Below it, a teenaged boy of about sixteen held a controller. He was dressed in a long, brown trench coat and tan pants.

"What that?"

Lex looked at the screen.

"That's 'Halo 2'."

"'Halo 2'," Scar repeated reverently.

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"A video game. You take that controller, and you use it to move the character and kill the enemies."

Scar stared once more in wonderment at the screen. A few more aliens were mercilessly destroyed.

Scar moved to the kid at the controls, roughly shoved the boy aside.

"Happy Halloween," Said Scar.

The boy simply swung his twelve-guage Winchester in an elaborate Western spin, holstered it, moved away from Lex and Scar. As he did, he made some notes on a small pad of paper.

It took a while, but Scar got the hang of the strange Xbox controls, and was blowing away Covenant in no time. Lex watched in bewilderment as Scar completely destroyed the game, almost like an experienced game player.

After about an hour and a half, Lex finally told Scar that it was time to go. Scar was torn that he had to leave his newly discovered friend.

The Xbox.

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Lex and Scar left Wal-Mart with the bounty of their Halloween.

Lex with a bag filled to the top with candy.

Scar, however, carried a box with a green "X" marking it.

He was very happy right now.


	5. Episode 4 Scar vs Thanksgiving

Lex and Scar say happy thanksgiving!

Everyone have a great day giving thanks for their blessings!

AVP/characters: 20th Century Fox

Adventures: Me

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MANHATTAN ISLAND, NOVEMBER 22, 2004

"I don't like this," said Scar, shifting uncomfortably. He was dressed in his best human clothes; which happened to be blue jeans, a leather belt, and a black "I 'heart' NY" t-shirt. His mask was, by necessity, in place.

"Scar, it's no different from going out in public. You even know enough english now to be convincing as a human."

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

A pause.

"I don't like it..."

Lex rolled her eyes in annoyance. Scar was the only one she had feelings for since Sebastian died, but sometimes the Hunter of Aliens she called Scar got on her nerves. But we've already been through that, haven't we?

"I've gotta check on the yams."

Lex moved into the kitchen. A smell reached Scar that made the Yautja sigh.

"With marshmallows?" asked the Predator.

"Of course," called Lex from the kitchen.

The doorbell rang, and Scar turned, trying to unsheathe wristblades that weren't there. He was that tense.

"That's probably them, Scar. Go ahead and answer the door."

Scar looked speculatively toward the kitchen, but moved toward the door nonetheless.

When Scar opened the door, before him stood two people -- one was a female, the other a male. They both looked to be about Lex's age. The male's gaze was previously somewhere in the vicinity of Scar's abdomen, as he was expecting someone a bit shorter. His eyes drifted up to Scar's face, finding the almost death's-head of his mask.

"H-hi," said the man nervously, "I'm Tom."

"Tom Woods?" asked Scar.

"Yeah..." the man smiled, "you must be Scar."

"Yes I am."

"Lex told me a lot about you," said Tom, extending a hand, "I'm Alexa's brother."

"Yes, I know." Scar took the man's hand, shook it. Tom winced a bit at the Yautja's strong grip.

"This is my girlfriend, Rachel."

The female ooman now extended her hand. Scar shook it a bit more gently than she did Tom's.

"A pleasure," Scar said.

"The same," replied Rachel.

At that time, Lex came up from behind Scar.

"Tom!" she said, embracing her brother in a warm hug.

"Good to see you, Lex."

"I see you've already met Scar."

"Yeah," Tom said, flexing his slightly sore hand a bit, "we've met."

"Excellent. I see Rachel's here."

"Hi, Lex," said Rachel.

"Nice to see you again, Rachel."

"So," said Tom, "are we gonna eat, or what?"

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The turkey was huge. It was the biggest turkey Lex could buy. And it looked as tender as a bird could get.

But that wasn't what Scar was eyeing.

It was those candied yams.

They looked heavenly, the color of a golden sunset as Lex set them almost exactly in front of Scar. Before Scar could stop himself, his hand involuntarily moved toward the tray. Just before his fingers touched the marshmallows, a hand smacked his away. Lex was the owner of this hand.

"Not yet."

Scar uttered some Yautja curses under his breath as he rubbed his hand.

"Would you carve the turkey, Scar?"

Here's what Scar was good with; blades. He deftly picked up the large carving knife, began to sharpen its blade. With a smooth, fluid motion, he carved a piece from the turkey, served it to each of the people at the table. Lex spooned a small heap of stuffing onto everyone's plate.

As calmly as he could, Scar dug into his plate.

"So, Scar," Tom said after a short silence, "what exactly do you do?"

"Do?" Scar cast a glance at Lex, who nodded. "I do video games."

Tom looked slightly confused.

"He makes video games," clarified Lex.

"Yes. Make video games."

"Which ones have you made?"

"Um," said Scar, "none yet."

"Haven't sold any ideas. He's on the market," said Lex.

"Hmm. I see," said Tom, turning back to his turkey.

After another short silence, the phone rang. Lex began to stand, but Scar made a gesture to stop her.

"No. I get it."

Scar stood from the table, walked over to the phone. He picked it up, put it to the side of his head.

"Hello?"

"Hello Scar," said a calm, centered voice from the other end.

Scar nearly dropped the phone.

"You know me?"

"Just what you are. And what you aren't; human. You're a big game hunter, aren't you?"

Scar made no reply.

"I know you are. And you may hunt again, soon."

"Who are you?"

"That's not important. Walk to your TV."

Scar did so. It was a replay of the Macy's parade.

"Switch it to channel fifteen, CNN."

Scar picked up the remote, clicked it a few times.

"The cause of death is still not apparent to the police, but it is speculated that murder with some sort of heavy weapon is involved..."

The screen depicted a murder scene, yellow tape spread everywhere, people crowding around. In the center lay a man, about thirty years of age. His mouth was open in a rictus of agony.

His chest was gaping open, the ribs blown outward.

"It could be a false alarm, but if I were you, I wouldn't take the chance."

Scar could almost see the man on the other end smirking. In fact, he could see him smirking; on the TV screen, a man in the crowd was speaking on a cell phone. He was dressed in a long, brown trenchcoat, matted brown hair, a nose a bit too big for his face. He was smiling.

His mouth moved in unison to the words on the phone. He looked right at the camera.

"I'll be watching you."

The man disappeared into the crowd.

The phone dropped to Scar's feet.


	6. Episode 5 Scar vs The Holiday Rush

Hello faithful readers. Just thought I'd let you check in on Lex 'n Scar before we get to Christmas, 'specially since I left you hanging evilly like that ;p

So now I leave you to the story.

P.S. Lex and Scar copyright 20th Century Fox.

The adventures of aforementioned characters are mine. All mine! Mua ha ha:)

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MANHATTAN ISLAND, DECEMBER 18, 2004

"Happy Christ-Mass," Said Scar -- as well as he could through the fifteen boxes he was carrying. Lex was really taking her Christmas shopping seriously, as she had a mother, a brother, and a sister (as well as an intergalactic hunter) to shop for.

As for Scar, he was once again doing his best to blend in, wearing his trenchcoat but his fedora now replaced with an overlarge, bright red Santa hat. Though his main focus was anchored in this store, Scar's thoughts trailed off elsewhere.

That man in the brown coat -- how did he know so much about him? How had he known about the "murder" so quickly? How had he known exactly what channel was broadcasting the report? And were the Hard Meat actually in New York? How had they got there? How did they survive? Too many questions that Scar didn't have the foggiest about solving. He had not bothered to tell Lex; what would she have done about it? All Scar knew was that he had to be more wary from now on.

As Lex and Scar walked down the isle, Lex paused, looking at some DVDs that were for sale.

"How much more, Lex?"

"Not too much more. I just found out that my entire family's coming here for Christmas, and I haven't gotten any of my shopping done, yet."

Scar could never grasp the human concept of procrastination.

Lex held up two DVDs for Scar's consideration.

"Do you think Tom would like "Monty Python's Flying Circus" or "Galaxy Quest" better?"

As Scar was a Monty Python fan himself and wasn't too keen on that Sigourney Weaver person, he pointed at the first option. Lex threw the DVD on top of the rapidly forming pile, adding a few more ounces to Scar's load.

"I think this enough, Lex."

"Yeah, I know. We're heading for the checkout now."

Scar definitely needed to be told his current position; it was a wonder Lex wasn't leading him be the hand, right now.

"I need to do my shopping for you, too, you know," said Lex.

"Yes, I know."

But what would she get him? A new plasma caster? An extra pair of wristblades? Or perhaps a bottle of perfume would be nice...

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Walking along the snow/slush-covered sidewalk, Scar's load had lessened slightly, as Lex was now carrying a few of the packages. Scar was thankful for the slight reprieve.

"Thanks for helping out, Scar."

Scar clicked in response.

"I'll try and get a cab, you wait here," she said.

As she went to flag down a taxi, something caught Scar's eye. It was a TV in the window of a Radio Shack, displaying the local news.

"Police are still searching for the alleged killer involved with two seemingly connected deaths in the past few weeks."

"Lex," called Scar, "come see this."

She had to know.

As she came up to him, she asked, "What is it, Scar?"

Her attention was then drawn to the report.

"Both murder victims were violently killed seemingly by having their innards torn out."

Lex's jaw dropped. She looked at Scar, who nodded.

"It was suspected earlier that the wound was caused by a large firearm, but such suspicions were dismissed by the coroner, who stated that the wound protruded outward, as if from within.

"On another note, there was some disturbance in Gunnison Colorado..."

Scar didn't catch the rest of the report.

"Scar, you don't think..."

Scar didn't answer. He simply turned from her, caught a taxi by roaring loudly at it. Lex and Scar got in the cab, the driver looking rather nervous, casting uneasy glances at Scar's mask as Lex gave the man instructions on their destination.

As they were driving, an announcer came onto the radio.

"This next song goes out to Scar, from 'a friend'."

Scar leaned forward in his seat.

"_We can be heroes_," said the radio, "_just for one day..._"


	7. Lex & Scar's Christmas Special!

Merry Christmas, one and all! Have a great time celebrating the birth of Christ.

Some of you are probably traveling to visit relatives and such, but for those of you who aren't, I wish you a quiet, uneventful holiday.

I wish I could say the same for Lex and Scar...

Lex & Scar belong to 20th Century Fox

But they are mine to toy with!

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MANHATTAN ISLAND, DECEMBER 24, 2004

The room was dark, dimmed to the taste of the Yautja who occupied it. Scar currently sat at the spartan metal desk he had purchased a month ago. It was solid brushed steel, as Scar specifically chose because it reminded him of home. He used a pair of overlarge scissors to cut yet another clipping from a newspaper. He pinned it up on his bulletin board next to the others --

"BIZZARE CHAIN OF MURDERS"

"'HEARTLESS' SERIAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN"

"12 FOUND DEAD IN 8TH STREET ALLEY"

"SEWER WORKERS DISSAPEAR -- LINK TO SERIAL KILLINGS SUSPECTED"

and the newest; "SEWER WORKERS STILL MISSING -- SEARCH PARTIES YIELD NO RESULTS"

Scar had been monitoring the reports for days now. He was now 85 sure that the Hard-Meat were now in Manhattan.

What he was going to do about it was the real problem.

Scar was a warrior, but without his plasma caster, he was hardly any type of match for a full hive of aliens. Yes, he had killed the Queen back in his Blooding, but that was with the help of Lex -- and a very large water tower. And he didn't really have one handy right now.

As he was pondering this, the door to his room opened, a beam of light cutting the darkness.

"Scar," said Lex for the doorway, "our guests should be here any time now. You might wanna get dressed."

At the time, Scar was only dressed in his native attire; fishnet and what looked like an armored loincloth. He didn't even have his biomask on.

"I don't..." he searched for the right words, but couldn't find any. "I can't do this, Lex. Not with this -- "

He gestured to the bulletin board.

"Scar," she came up next to him, put a hand on his shoulder. "there's nothing you can do."

"But... your family," Scar explained, "Your family come here. I fear for them..."

"They'll be here with us," Lex said, here voice gentle, "they'll be safe."

Her voice was uncertain, though, as if she were having a hard time convincing even herself.

"Yes," said Scar, "safe..."

\\\\\\\\\\

The doorbell rang, and this time Lex was available to answer it. When she opened the door, before her stood two women holding gift-wrapped boxes. One was much older than Lex, with lightly tanned skin and gray streaks in her black hair. The other was slightly younger than Lex, with dark brown hair and even tanner skin than Lex herself. She was dressed in a very thick winter coat, and looked like she had been freezing to death.

"Kelly! Mom!"

Lex hugged her mother, then her sister.

"Good to see you, Lex," said Kelly.

"You too, Kelly. How's New York treating you?"

"Treating me? It won't leave me alone. I think I'm gonna catch my death out here."

"Kelly," said Lex's mother, "it's thirty degrees out."

"Yeah," replied Kelly, "it's below freezing! It's miserable."

Lex rolled her eyes; Kelly didn't have that tan for no reason. She normally lived in Florida. She didn't have much of the adventuresome spirit that Lex inherited from her father.

"So," said Lex's mother, "where's that friend of yours you've been talking about so much?"

"Yeah, he sounds hot," Kelly said.

Lex blushed a little. She wouldn't exactly say _hot_...

"Yeah," said Lex, snapping out of it, "he's just inside. In fact, he's -- "

"Right here."

Scar had entered from his room -- all seven feet of him, dressed in extra large jeans and a huge, long-sleeved, red dress shirt that was extremely tight around his right forearm. His mask looked a little softer because of the huge Santa hat he now had on. He seemed to like wearing it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. and Ms. Woods."

Lex's mother looked rather shocked, but Kelly's eyes were wide, and she slowly walked forward in a trancelike daze.

"Charmed, I'm sure..." she said in a equally trancelike voice.

She moved up next to Scar, batting her eyelashes.

"I'm Kelly," she said, a little too pleasantly for Lex's tastes.

"I know," Scar replied bluntly.

"Wanna get to know me better?"

"Okay," Lex said suddenly, taking Kelly by the shoulders and moving her away from the enormous Predator, "there'll be no knowing here."

Scar simply walked over to the couch, sat down, and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels every five seconds, obviously looking for something in particular.

"Where did you say you met him?" asked Lex's mother.

"Um... On an expedition to Antarctica. I was working for Weyland Industries at the time."

And every bit of it was truth. Of course, she neglected to mention the fact that he was an intergalactic hunter, or that the rest of the team had been killed by aliens. But Lex didn't really believe that omission was the same as lying.

"Where's he from?" asked Kelly.

"Jamaica," said Scar without turning from the television.

"Ah," said Kelly, "that's interesting."

"So," Lex said, digressing. "When are Tom and Rachel gonna be here?"

Lex's mom said, "Tom just called. They'll be here any minute."

"While we're waiting, would anyone like some eggnog?"

Scar immediately raised his hand.

"I know you do, Scar. I meant mom and Kelly."

Scar lowered his hand, his shoulders slumping.

"I wouldn't mind some," said Lex's mom.

"Me, too," said Kelly.

Lex moved over to a table where she had set a bottle of eggnog and six champagne glasses. She filled three of the glasses, handed one to Kelly, one to her mother, and one to Scar, who took it a little more eagerly than he should have.

It was at that time that the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," said Lex, "It must be Tom and Rachel."

She walked over, opened the door. Before her stood not her brother and his girlfriend, but a man dressed in a dark brown leather trenchcoat, tan pants and a red dress shirt. His brown hair was matted beyond recognition and fell in knots in front of his deeply shadowed eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept for weeks.

"Hey," the man said, his juvenile voice carrying a heavy smell of coffee, "I'm a friend of Scar's."

"I don't know you," said Lex.

"But I know you, Alexa Athena Woods."

Lex was more than a bit freaked out.

"What do you want?"

"To come in," said the Coated Man pleasantly. He held up a large, gift wrapped box that Lex had somehow failed to notice before, "I got Scar a present."

"Alright," said Lex reluctantly, "come on in."

She gestured past her, and the Coated Man stepped rather gracefully and regally inside.

"Sorry I couldn't get you one," he said, placing the box under the large Christmas tree, "I've sort of fallen on hard times, you see..."

He walked up to where Scar was sitting, placed a hand on his shoulder. Scar looked up saw the Coated Man's face. His luminescent green blood froze in his veins.

"Hello," he managed.

"Who are you?" asked Lex's mother. Kelly was looking at him with that same entranced look on her face.

"Malcolm Reynolds," Coated Man replied courteously, "I'm a game designer for Microsoft and I'm currently trying to get Scar here a job." Then, directed at Scar, "Sitting around playing Halo and watching CNN doesn't pay much, good buddy."

Scar stared daggers at Coated Man, but managed to sound pleasant.

"Yeah," he said, "doesn't pay."

\\\\\\\\\\

Frank Sinatra was singing "Silent Night" on a CD that was playing when the doorbell rang again.

"I'll get it," said Lex, silently hoping for no more surprises.

She opened the door, revealing Tom and Rachel, carrying some more presents.

"Tom, Rachel. Great to see you!"

"You too, Lex. Where can we put these?" said Tom.

"Oh, right under the tree in here," said Lex, taking some of the boxes. They moved to put them under the tree, briefly passing the couch where Kelly and Coated Man sat, the former slowly sliding toward the latter. Coated Man indifferently watched the television, which was currently playing the Saturday Night Live Christmas Special. Scar had moved away from Coated Man, to the table next to the Christmas tree, where he slunk another cookie from the tray. The CD switched to Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas".

"So," said Tom, "when're we gonna open these?"

"Patience Tom," replied Lex, "Patience."

She went to get another bottle of eggnog, as Scar had finished off the original one. As she was headed for the kitchen, she bumped right into Scar. Before either of them could move, Tom said, "Yo, Lex! You and Scar're under the mistletoe!"

Lex and Scar both looked up, seeing the bright red and green plant hanging over their heads. Lex didn't remember putting up any mistletoe, and neither did Scar.

On the couch, Coated Man smirked.

"Aren't you gonna kiss him?" remarked Rachel.

Lex nodded briefly, looked at Scar, who's eyes were widening behind his mask.

Lex leaned forward, kissed Scar on the mouthpiece of his biomask.

"Come on," said Tom, "that's not a kiss. Take off your mask, Scar."

"NO," said Lex and Scar in unison.

"Um, part of his... religion," explained Lex.

"Happy Hanukkah," said Scar quickly.

Coated Man snickered quietly.

"So," Lex said rather suddenly, her face and ears flushed so red she almost matched the sofa, "how about those presents?"

"Yes, presents," said Scar.

After a short time, they began to unwrap their presents. Tom was excited about his Monty Python DVD, but Lex wasn't quite so enthusiastic when she got three pairs of socks from her brother in response. But the night was saved with her mother's gift, which was a brand new laptop computer. Lex was exceedingly grateful.

While everyone else was opening their presents, Kelly leaned close to Coated Man, whispered in his ear.

"I've got a present for you," she said.

"Really?" Coated Man replied, his gaze never leaving the TV.

He did notice, however, that a small thing of mistletoe had been raised above his head. He indifferently stared at the TV.

"Merry Christmas," said Kelly.

"That's very nice of you," intoned Coated Man.

Kelly was somewhat disappointed by his lack of reaction.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

This time, Coated Man looked directly at her, his dark eyes seeming even darker with his expressionless face.

"No," he said simply.

"Oh, if you wanna be _that_ way," replied Kelly, disappointed.

Back at the tree, Scar had just finished opening his present from Lex (a very large bottle of perfume), when he came to a very large box.

The tag read "To: Scar, From: the guy who's getting hit on by Lex's sister right now".

Scar looked to the couch, saw Kelly particularly close to the Coated Man. The Man nodded to Scar, smirked. Scar looked back at the tag, read it again.

_How did he...?_

The Coated Man nodded at him once more, and Scar began to tear away the brightly colored wrapping paper. When he finished, he slowly lifted the lid, half-expecting a Hard-Meat facehugger to leap out and attach to his face.

He didn't get a facehugger, but something equally surprising.

Inside the rather large box was a whole _arsenal_.

A plasma caster, a combi stick, a shuriken, and what looked like a _whip_...

Scar quickly closed the box, stood up.

"Scar, what's -- "

Before Lex could say anything else, he had run to the couch, grabbed the Coated Man by the arm, and rushed out of the room.

"What was that all about?" asked Tom.

\\\\\\\\\\

Scar slammed the door to his room, threw Coated Man to the floor. He grabbed the plasma caster from the box -- and oddly, it fit right in his hand, like it was meant to be held this way -- and waved it in Coated Man's face.

"Where -- Where you get this!?!" he roared.

The Coated Man simply stared cooly at him, his expressionless gaze only wavered by that accursed smirk.

"A friend I like to call Wolf, but you probably know him as Ra'chta. He's a Warrior, isn't he? Long-range cleanup. Set to become and Elder soon, right?"

Scar was shocked. He knew Ra'chta, and had even trained under him once. He was a fierce Warrior and a bit of a legend.

Scar grabbed Coated Man by his shirt, hoisted him to his feet.

"How you know Ra'chta?"

"Well, that's for me to know and well..." he smirked, "well, you _not_ to."

"Who are you?"

"No one of consequence."

"I need to know!"

"Get used to disappointment."

The Coated Man ran to the window (which was now open, for some reason), placed one foot on the sill in a regal pose. He produced a small sheet of paper.

"I you ever need my assistance, this is my cell number. I'm always available."

Scar looked at the paper; it read "870542".

"My friend," said the Coated Man, "this is the day you shall always remember as the day you almost caught -- "

With that, the man rather unceremoniously tripped and fell backwards out the window. Scar dashed to the window, leaned almost halfway out.

There was absolutely no sign of Coated Man, just the busy Manhattan traffic below.

Scar leaned back in the window, growling. He crumpled the piece of paper and shoved it into his pocket.

\\\\\\\\\\

Scar exited his room to find that things were much more tame in here than they were in his room. The light was dim, lit by glowing candlelight. The TV played a news bit about Santa's safe takeoff this year. Tom and Rachel were snuggled together on the couch, Lex sitting a short distance from them. Scar looked at the clock on the wall: "12:01".

It was Christmas.

Scar moved to the couch, sat next to Lex. He hugged her close.

A very interesting first Christmas for the Predator.

Very interesting indeed.


	8. Episode 7 Scar vs The Author

WARNING!

SIREN SOUND EFFECTS

This episode of Lex & Scar contains major spoilers to the ending of AVP:R. If you plan on seeing it, you might not want to read this until you see it. But if you have seen it, or if you have no intention of seeing it or simply don't care about spoilers, by all means, read on.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Now, on to the story.

(AVP/AVP:R characters are copyrighted property of 20th Century Fox, but as the author of this series, I have the right to torture them as I wish :)

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, JANUARY 3, 2005

Wolf dropped to the floor, the rain pounding his scarred face. He felt nothing as the rain ran into his dead, white eye, but his chest burned with bioluminescent fire as he ponderously picked himself up. He tried to gather his memories into a coherent thought.

Last he knew, he was fighting the half-Yautja Hard-Meat on top of the roof of the human medical centre. He had the beast dead, it's inner mouth no longer a part of its body, Wolf's wristblades through its head. But then the beast impaled him upon its tail, and then the blinding flash, and...

Wolf checked himself over. He was bleeding profusely from his chest, but otherwise, he was in one piece. His spine was intact, his ribcage, lungs, heart --

_Only a flesh wound..._

As Wolf was about to pull out his medkit to seal the wound, he heard something -- even without his equipment his senses were still keen enough to detect a single footstep amongst the falling rain.

And a footstep it was, for he turned to see, standing on the edge of the roof, a Soft-Meat boy of about sixteen Earth-years, wearing a long, brown coat. The coated boy smirked at Wolf from a dark-eyed face, reached behind his back, withdrew something and uncoiled it.

It was Wolf's whip.

The coated boy snapped the razor-edged cable out with almost machinelike grace, let it coil limply about his feet.

Wolf checked his weapon harness. All of his weapons -- his whip, plasma caster, combi-stick, grid-casters, even his vial of blue cleaning fluid -- were gone. He did recall loosing most of the items during the skirmish, but most of them stayed with him until the flash of light.

Before Wolf had time to react, the coated boy stepped backward off the ledge, the whip trailing behind him like a tail.

The Predator dashed to the ledge, only to see a busy street below --

Wait...

A busy street?

He was indeed upon a rooftop, and it was raining, but he was decidedly not atop the human medical centre. Wolf quickly opened his wrist computer, pulled up a holo-map of Earth. His current position was easily halfway across the continent. How could this be? It had been only a matter of minutes ago that he was battling the half-Yautja Hard-Meat...

As he pondered, something caught the corner of his good eye -- crouched on a nearby rooftop was a huge, muscular form in full battle-armor. A Yautja like himself. He also noticed the distinctive mark that ran from the top to bottom corner of his mask.

The mark of a Badblood.

\\\\\\\\\\

Carrie awoke, dizzy and disoriented. The rain soaked through her brown-and-red waitress uniform, chilling her skin. It was extremely cold, and she started to shiver. She wondered how she got outside; the last thing she remembered was getting attacked by that huge monster -- it closed its mouth around her head and then... nothing.

She felt as though several hours of her life were missing, as if someone had simply cut them out, or she'd spent the time in an inky blackness.

Her throat ached, and her stomach hurt with a slight burning sensation. She wondered if her baby was okay (she was six months pregnant, for those of you who don't know), and her head was quickly filled with memories of some sort of tube being forced down her throat.

She shook the memories from her conscious, heaved herself to her feet. She had to get inside, or she'd freeze to death...

As she was walking, she ran strait into a boy of about sixteen years who was wearing a brown trenchcoat.

"Need help, miss?" the boy said.

"No, not really," Carrie lied.

A boy with dark eyes and matted hair wearing a trenchcoat standing in the middle of the street? Carrie couldn't really think of a more suspicious scene.

"I must look really suspicious to you, but you have to believe I only want to help. I know some friends in that building there," he pointed to a large apartment building that was only about ten meters away. "Floor 10, apartment 142. I'll show you."

Carrie was still, of course, apprehensive; this kid was probably either a psychopath or a delinquent. But then, what other choice did she have? Here she was in a miniskirt and short sleeves in what felt like the middle of winter (which was a mystery in itself, because she distinctly remembered it being summer). If there was any hope, it was with this kid.

"Alright," she said.

"Follow me," said Coated Man.

\\\\\\\\\\

Wolf had no trouble jumping across to the other rooftop undetected by the Badblood, and he was now sneaking up next to the other Yautja, unsheathing his wristblades (which thankfully had stayed in their pace when everything else disappeared). From a reasonable distance, Wolf hunkered down, observing the Badblood. The Yautja seemed to be tracking something; he placed his hand on the ground, brought it up to his face -- it was covered with a clear, viscous material.

Hard-Meat.

Apparently the place he was in now had a Serpent problem as well. Were they everywhere?

If they had spread to the whole of Earth, he would need the assistance of more Warriors. Warriors that he would have to contact with his wrist computer. A wrist computer, I may add, that's range no longer extended beyond Earth's atmosphere. For now, Wolf focused on apprehending this one stray Badblood. Wolf activated his cloaking, and started toward the younger, less wise Predator. The Badblood noticed Wolf too late, spun around, brandishing what looked a little too much like Wolf's hand-caster. The Warrior knocked the weapon from the Badblood's hand, grabbed the younger Yautja by the throat. It was then that he noticed the mark upon the Youngblood's mask.

"G'raal?"

"Ra'chta!" replied the hunter known to humans as Scar. He felt as if a burden had been lifted when he began speaking in his native tongue.

Ra'chta simply stared as if he was seeing a ghost -- which, in a way, he was.

"G'raal, you're..." Wolf paused, his words not coming easily, "you're supposed to be dead..."

"What?"

Ra'chta started slowly, "during your Blooding, you were... killed by the Queen of the Hard-Meat, but before that, you were infected with Hard-Meat offspring. The beast burst out when the ship took off, killed everyone on board, and I tracked it to a place far from here. But, that's not possible, is it?"

"No... Not to disrespect, Warrior, but I survived my Blooding, but my father marked me a Badblood for aligning myself with an ooman."

"An ooman?"

"Yes, Warrior. But she is not weak. She is a hunter like us."

"I see how S'bal would object to this. But perhaps if I met her, I could judge for myself whether or not this ooman is really a hunter. And then maybe I can confer with the Elders and possibly lift your status as a Badblood."

Scar desperately fought the joy welling within him. Back on the Hunt? Deeply, he'd been wishing this since Antarctica. But, of course, leaving Earth would mean leaving Lex...

"Come, I'll show you my home."

\\\\\\\\\\

Meanwhile, back at Lex and Scar's apartment, Lex was minding her own business, watching a rerun of "Mystery Science Theatre 3000". She wasn't really paying attention as Mike and the Bots bashed "Night of the Blood Beast" for the umpteenth time; her thoughts were with Scar. He was out on the hunt, attempting to track the aliens for the first time in months. Lex had wanted to go with, but Scar wouldn't let her; there was no telling what would happen if they actually did find the aliens. Lex was interrupted in her thoughts by a knock on the door. She had some terrible foreboding that she knew exactly who the knock belonged to. She walked over, opened the door.

Before her stood Coated Man.

"Hey, Lex. What's up?"

"Why am I not surprised," said Lex, exasperated. At this time, she noticed Carrie standing behind Coated Man. "Friend of yours?"

"Not really. Her name's Carrie."

Carrie turned quickly, staring in shock at Coated Man.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Lex," said Lex, extending a hand.

"Carrie," she said, shaking Lex's hand.

"Well, come on in. I've got some extra clothes in my room you can borrow."

"Thanks."

She allowed Carrie to step past her into the house. Coated Man started inside as well, but she stopped him.

"What makes you think you're coming in?"

"Because, well..." he cleared his throat, "may I please come in, Lex?"

Lex looked at him, her look still rather exasperated.

"Fine, you can come in."

"Thank you," said Coated Man, walking past her into the apartment.

Lex walked in also, closed the door, "You'll probably end up in here somehow, anyway."

"You're probably right," Coated Man replied, plopping himself on the couch, saw the MST3K episode on TV, "hey, I never seen this one before. I got the original movie, but not with Mike and the Bots. This stuff's classic."

"Uh-huh," said Lex, "I'm assuming you didn't come here just to watch MST3K."

"How do you know?"

Lex rolled her eyes.

"But seriously, I came to check on Scar. How's the hunt going?"

"Doesn't really surprise me that you know he's out."

Coated Man grinned widely, "You're finally getting to know me."

"A little better than I'm comfortable with."

"Trust me, you don't know nearly enough."

Carrie entered in from Lex's room, now dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweat pants. She looked considerably more comfortable.

"Alright," she said, "Someone's gotta tell me what's goin' on here. Half an hour ago I was in Gunnison, Colorado getting attacked by some sort of monster with no eyes and next thing I know I'm laying in the rain in Manhattan. Anyone care to elaborate?"

Coated Man was about to speak, but then paused looked at his watch. Counted down, "three, two, one..."

With "one", the window opened and Wolf and Scar stepped in.

"Right on time," said Coated Man.

Wolf glared at Coated Man.

"You again," said Scar, "You ever go away?"

"You, you took my -- " started Wolf, then realised he had spoken in the tongue of the oomans, "why am I -- "

"Speaking English?" said Coated Man, "Because it suits me right now. Thought we'd have a bit of a palaver. Please, everyone; take a seat."

Everyone in the room took a seat on the various couches and chairs. Coated Man remained standing.

"Okay," he started, "let's cut the crap. In the world I come from, you all are fictional characters."

This raised a few shocked remarks, but nothing too big.

Coated Man continued, "And as such, I have certain measures of power in this world." He looked at Carrie, "If not for me, you'd be dead right now."

"How... What was that thing that attacked me?"

"It was a Predalien. A mixture of a xenomorph and a Yautja's genetics. This may not make sense to you, Carrie, but I know Scar and Wolf know what I'm talking about; the Predalien was a budding Queen, but the Yautja DNA messed up its reproductive system. It no longer laid eggs, but instead acted as a facehugger, depositing multiple embryo's into a host. Although," he looked back at Carrie, "the host for the embryos needs to be a pregnant female."

Carrie looked worried, put a hand on her stomach, "you mean, inside of me right now..."

"Yes. But don't worry. I've tampered with the process so that you won't be harmed. If I hadn't those aliens would've burst out of your stomach and killed you within hours."

"And... what about my baby?"

"Babies. You're carrying twins. But anyway, they'll be fine. Just a tad less human. Any other questions?"

Lex raised her hand, "Yeah. What do you mean by 'fictional characters'?"

"You're all characters in a movie series."

"Can we see the movies?"

"As a rule, no. There's a lot more like me. And believe me, I'm kind of generous. In one world, Scar dies. That's the world Wolf comes from. In other worlds, you both die. In yet other's Sebastian's still alive. There's infinite possibilities, but there are rules we must follow. Just call us 'Authors'."

"Alright, _Author_," Scar said, "Why there Hard-Meat in Manhattan?"

"The Weyland corp -- soon to join with technological foundation Yutani industries -- got a DNA sample from the alien skull you brought back from Antarctica. Someone sabotaged their Manhattan lab and now the aliens have a small hive beneath the city. Not huge, but moderate size. That's one of the reasons I brought Wolf here; to help you on the hunt."

"Can you prove any of this nonsense?" asked Lex.

"Wow. You mean beside the fact that you're all here? You're a hand woman to convince, miss Woods. But anyway, if it's _more_ proof you want..." He placed his thumb and forefinger to his mouth, blew a shrill whistle.

From the shadows stepped a monster.

It was about seven feet tall with slight biomechanical features. Its skin was a sickly yellow color, and its eyeless face housed a pair of razor-tipped mandibles and dreadlocks covered its translucent, domed head.

It was the Predalien.

Scar cocked his plasma caster.

Wolf unsheathed wristblades.

Carrie scrambled, fell over the couch.

"Hey, hey! Wait a second!!!" said Coated Man, "Don't shoot, just look!"

Scar and Wolf put down their weapons to see that the Predalien was simply standing still, its muscular shoulders rising and falling as it breathed. Coated Man put a hand on its shoulder.

"This is Chet. She's of course a young Predalien Queen, but she's rather quite harmless. And in case you're wondering, she's decidedly not the one who attacked Carrie in Colorado."

"Okay," said Scar, holstering his caster, "we believe you, Author. What we do now?"

"Alright, to sum it up, there's no need to worry about the hive right now; the Queen answers to me. Wolf will get his weapons back, but so will Scar. Carrie, you'll be fine; just get plenty of rest, exercise, and eat your green vegetables. And since Carrie and Wolf won't be going home any time soon, I've got two extra apartments right next to mine."

"And where exactly is your apartment?" asked Carrie.

Coated Man smiled, "right down the hall. Don't forget to pack a toothbrush. And I'll need to be getting back to it now. Should you need me, you can always come over to my place. The coffee pot's always on, the internet's free and I've got more DVDs than Wolf has skulls. See you in the morning, the keys to your respective apartments are on the couch. Goodnight, one and all."

Coated Man headed out the door, Chet close behind.

Lex and Scar looked at Carrie and Wolf.

"Well," said Lex, "that was interesting."


	9. 2x1 Scar vs The Failure of Caffeine

Hey, everybody! Welcome back to the world of Lex & Scar. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but the lapse signifies the beginning of season two of L&S. Yup, the last episode with all those secrets revealed and juicy AVP:R revelations was the end of the season! Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and menfolk! Here comes the Adventures of Lex and Scar in Manhattan – Season Two!!

Oh, yeah; and Twentieth Century Fox owns Lex, Scar, Wolf, Chet, Carrie, and the aliens. (Way to take away my gusto, stupid copyright law!)

P.S. there may still be spoilers for AVP:R ahead in this next season.

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, FEBRUARY 2, 2005

Scar turned the doorknob, and was surprised to find that the door was unlocked. He pushed lightly on the door, as if entering to suddenly would cause hit to be struck by some malignant force. The door open, he let himself in. He found himself in the main room of the apartment, which was painted in beige and white. The floors were hardwood, and the walls were sparsely decorated. But the main piece of the room was and enormous flat-panel TV the sat against the wall. It must've measured at least 85". After sufficient awe of the TV, Scar set his sites on his main quarry, which didn't take him too long; in front of the TV was a brown leather couch, and upon that couch was the Coated Man – the Author. He was not in his usual attire of a red dress shirt and brown trenchcoat, but black jeans and a battered, hooded sweatshirt. Empty Jolt Cola cans surrounded him.

As Scar moved toward him to try and wake him up, he heard footsteps coming from the vicinity of the kitchen. Scar quickly turned, instinctively unsheathed his wristblades as Chet, the young Predalien queen, entered.

Scar froze in place as he realized what Chet was doing; clutched in one claw and upturned into its mandibles was a carton of milk.

The Hard-Meat was drinking milk.

Chet lowered the carton of milk, wiped its face with its other arm. It noticed Scar and cocked its head quizzically.

"Whodat!" Said Coated Man, bolting upright, the Jolt cans clanging noisily to the floor. He groaned, rubbing his temples. "Ugh. No matter how much caffeine you put into your body, it has its limits and eventually gives out."

After clearing his head a bit, Coated Man looked at the clock. "10:00? Man, never really been up this early."

"Yes," said Scar, "you struck me as the night type."

Coated Man looked up, looked at Scar as if he had just noticed him. "Hey, Scar. You need somethin'?"

Instead of answering, Scar thrust a newspaper in his general direction. Coated Man took it, read it aloud, "Strange epidemic spreads. Scientists cannot explain source."

Coated Man looked up at Chet, who shrugged rather human-like. He put the newspaper down, sighed. "You see," he began, "this is why I can't sleep. When I do, stuff happens that I can't control. You know; 'when the cat's away, the mice will play'?"

Scar nodded and logged away that he would have to do everything in his power to keep the Author awake. Otherwise, he just might have a Hard-Meat invasion on his shoulders.

"So, what you going to do about it?" asked Scar.

"Do? Can't really do anything except wait for it to pass, I'm afraid."

"'Pass'? What if it doesn't 'Pass'? The Hard-Meat more dangerous than anything. They could destroy Earth."

"If I didn't know that, I would have told you. Besides, I've taken measures. If an outbreak starts, it will be exclusively contained to the island. And we've got two of the best Yautja the universe could ask for to help with the mess. Believe me, I know what could happen in a full-scale infection. There's one book where – "

He stopped himself, cleared his throat; the Author couldn't reveal much about other realities.

"I understand," said Scar simply.

The Author was about to say something else, but was interrupted when Wolf suddenly entered; now dressed in extra-large, camouflage-patterned clothing. He wore no mask.

"I'm sorry," said Wolf, in better English than Scar, "am I interrupting?"

"Not at all," said the Coated Man, "whaddaya need, Wolf?"

"Nothing very important, it's just that Carrie just left."

"She…" the Author suddenly looked startled.

"Yes. She said she was going to the hospital to get some tests done. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Oh, bad," said Coated Man, paling. He jumped up from the couch, sending more Jolt cans to the floor, "bad, bad, bad!"

"What's wrong?" asked Scar.

The Author had already moved to the coat rack on the wall, grabbed his trenchcoat and his weapon harness, which housed a small, sawed-off shotgun and a dagger. He hurriedly put these items on and addressed his companions; "Chet, stay here and hold down the fort. Scar, get Lex. And Wolf, for goodness sake, wear your mask!"

The Coated Man hurried to the door, opened it.

"Where we going?" asked Scar.

"To the hospital!" answered the Author.

\\\\\\\\\\

Carrie had checked into the hospital a half-hour ago, and was now waiting in the imaging suite for one Dr. Julius Pendekker, an obstetrician. She didn't know the man, but she didn't really know anybody except for the people she'd been living with for the past month; Lex, Scar, Wolf, and the Coated Man. In fact, nobody she knew really even _existed_ in this reality.

But that was why she was here; she had been kind of skeptical about what the "Author" had said a month ago, even though he had made that "Predalien" appear out of nowhere. So, she decided she'd get some hard evidence.

The door opened, Dr. Pendekker entered. He was a younger man of about twenty-eight, with blonde hair and an average build. From his tan, it looked as if he didn't spend all of his time as an obstetrician.

"So," he read from his clipboard, his voice a relatively low pitch, "Miss Carrie Adams of Gunnison, Colorado."

He had spoken it with a hint of skepticism, as if he didn't quite believe what he had read. "I tried to find your medical records, _Miss Adams_. We couldn't find any such resident of Colorado, or of the United States, for that matter."

Carrie paled.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Carrie?"

"No, I…"

"We do have welfare programs for supporting itinerants – "

"I'm not an _itinerant_, okay? Do I _look_ like I'm homeless?"

"No, but your records – "

"I don't care about my records!" she snapped, "I just want a freaking ultrasound, okay?"

\\\\\\\\\\

Lex, Scar, Wolf, and the Author walked down the street, rushing through the crowd. It was incredibly cold out, but none of them really noticed.

"I don't understand," said Lex, "What's the rush?"

"We're rushing because Carrie's going to get an ultrasound. And I didn't know about it, which is bad," said the Coated Man.

"And this is bad, why…?"

"Do I really have to remind you what's inside Carrie? If some doctor sees those aliens, their gonna poke and prod until they find out what those things are, and that's gonna lead back to me. Which can't happen. Not to mention the fact that xenomorphs are sensitive to ultrasound waves." then, after a pause, "see, this is what happens when I fall asleep."

"Shouldn't we take a cab?" asked Lex.

"No. We'll get jammed up in the traffic. Walking will be faster. The hospital's only a block away."

"Why are we bringing our weapons?" Scar asked.

Coated Man looked at him strangely.

"You never can be too careful."

\\\\\\\\\\

The ultrasound machine calibrated, the image starting out fuzzy and ambiguous as Dr. Pendekker slid the viewing paddle across Carrie's stomach. The ultrasound machine was 3D, so it would give them a fairly clear image.

When the image finally cleared up, Carrie held her breath.

There were two babies, just as the Author had said, but that wasn't what shocked her; it was the way they looked. For the most part, they looked normal – but their arms were armored, with pointed blades instead of elbows. They both had razor-tipped tails. Some part of Carrie wondered why she hadn't been diced up from the inside out.

"Wow," said Carrie, amazed.

"Huh……" Said Dr. Pendekker, shocked.

The monitor that had been measuring the two steady beats of Carrie's babies suddenly added another layer to its noise.

Pendekker, snapping out of his reverie, glanced at the fetal heart monitor.

"Three heartbeats… four… five… six? That's not possible…"

Pendekker moved the ultrasound paddle, and now something else was in view; a chestburster. It was further along than normal, its limbs already grown and its smooth head separated from its body. It turned its eyeless face toward the paddle, lunged straight at it.

Carrie saw the skin of her stomach stretch as the baby alien attacked the paddle, breaking the plastic instrument in half.

The form sank back into her, and she felt the creatures inside her moving.

"I… um… need to go now," said Pendekker, turning for the door.

The exact moment he reached the door, a scream resounded from the hallway.

\\\\\\\\\\

Wolf, Lex, Scar and Coated Man had just entered the hospital's diagnostic wing when the scream was heard.

Bounding down the hallway was a xenomorph praetorian.

It was only about as big as a normal drone, but much more muscular, with a Queen-like crown. It caught sight of the group, screeched. Wolf unfurled his whip, slung it around the beast's neck. Before Wolf could pull the whip and sever its head, the praetorian grabbed the whip, jerked wolf toward it. As Wolf was flying through the air, he unsheathed his wristblades, plunged them into its head. He kicked away from the dying creature as it began to spray acid in every direction. He landed back next to Lex, Scar and the Coated Man.

"Wow," the Author said, wide-eyed.

"Alright," Lex said, "Carrie's supposed to be in imaging suite 17."

"And now we have the Hard-Meat to deal with," said Wolf.

"Not a problem," said the Coated Man. Behind him, a facehugger leap up. The Author spun, blasted it to steaming bits in midair with his shotgun.

"Nice shot," said Scar.

"Thank you."

\\\\\\\\\\

Carrie dashed out of the imaging suite, leaving Pendekker to drool on himself. She looked around, saw those accursed aliens mulling here and there.

_If only I had a weapon_, she thought.

She moved as quietly as she could past the creatures, but she wasn't quiet enough; one of the aliens caught sight of her, screeched. Carrie began to back away, but it leapt at her, pinned her to the floor. It reared back to attack…

…And its head exploded when a plasma bolt flew seemingly out of nowhere. Acid flew everywhere, and miraculously didn't touch Carrie.

From down the hallway stepped Lex, Scar, Wolf, and the Author. Wolf's hand-caster steamed, recharging.

"Come with us if you wanna live," said the Coated Man.

Wolf helped Carrie up, handed her a hand-caster from his belt.

"Pump to charge, twist to fire. Don't shoot your foot off."

Carrie cocked the heavy weapon, pleased that she wasn't helpless.

"Hate to break this up, but we've got company," said the Coated Man, referring to the incoming regiment of about ten alien warriors headed down the hall. A hail of plasma bolts greeted the first row of them, while some stray aliens ahead of them were blasted in half by the Author's shotgun. One of them managed to get past the deadly hail of lead, but was clotheslined by the impossibly strong arm of the Author.

They finally reached the elevator, and Carrie relentlessly pushed the "down" button.

The plasma casters of Scar and Wolf continually flared, taking chunks out of the aliens but not doing much damage.

"Come ON!" Carrie screamed at the elevator as the light crawled towards the sixth floor.

"This is getting a little tight!" said Coated Man.

"Please make elevator go faster," said Scar.

"What do you expect me to do?" Snapped Carrie.

Ding!

The doors of the elevator slid open, just as the aliens were a good two meters away. The group slid into the cramped space, and just as the doors closed, an alien shoved its head into the space. Scar hauled back, punched it dead in the face, sending it reeling backwards out of the doors.

They all slumped to the floor, breathing heavily.

"Now, Carrie," said the Author, "have we learned our lesson?"

Carrie nodded heavily, one hand automatically finding her distended waist.

Suddenly, there was a metallic "THUMP!" from above them, and the ceiling of the elevator began to buckle.

"Oh, crap," said Scar.

The ceiling split open, the ridged head of a xenomorph warrior pushing its way inside, hissing.

Carrie screamed.

The creature screeched, launching its impossibly long inner mouth, trying to get at the beings inside the elevator.

Wolf grabbed the alien's inner mouth, held it in place.

"EAT THIS!" he screamed, shoved his hand-caster against its head, blew its brains out.

It shrieked as it backed away out of the hole.

All was quiet, except for the slow elevator music.

\\\\\\\\\\

"That was the scene this afternoon at St. Peter hospital on Fourth Street when a major biohazard was caught and contained. Further details are yet to be released, but from what can be gathered, it seems that some sort of chemical spill was involved. The Marines and the National Guard have been called in to help contain the spill…"

The CNN news report played idly on Coated Man's giant plasma screen.

Scar, Lex, Wolf, Carrie, and the Author all sat in the living room of Coated Man's apartment.

"I believe we've now all learned that when I fall asleep, bad stuff happens. But individually we find that Wolf and Scar rock, Lex is good with directions, and Carrie needs to avoid doctors _like the plague,_" he took a long draught from his coffee mug, "are we understood, Carrie?"

"Yes. Perfectly."

"Good. And by the way, you make excellent coffee," Coated Man added with a grin.


	10. 2x2 Scar vs Movie Night

Hey, readers! Another glorious day in the Corps, and it's time to check up on the L&S entourage once more. And guess what? Tonight's movie night! Yup, and from the looks of things, it's gonna be an all-nighter!

On another note, I've opened the "Adventures of Lex and Scar Fan Ideas" board, so if you wanna add your two cents to my unintelligible slur of AVP goodness, head on over to the Aliens/Predator boards. You can't miss it. Yes, if you truly wish it, I will credit you for your idea. And even whole plot outlines will be welcomed, if you got 'em.

(AVP/AVP:R characters belong to 20th Century Fox, but Lex & Scar's Adventures belong to your friendly neighborhood Coated Man!)

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, FEBRUARY 10, 2005

Scar, Lex, Wolf, Carrie, Chet, and the Author all sat in front of Coated Man's absurdly large TV. It was about five PM, and it was officially time for movie night to begin. The Author had one interesting time deciding what movies they could watch, but he finally decided to start with one that wasn't harmful in any way.

"Alien Vs. Hunter?" Scar skeptically asked, looking disturbed at the DVD box he was holding.

"Yup," said Coated Man, plopping down with a fresh mug of coffee, "It isn't actually supposed to come out for another two years, but that really doesn't matter. It's a rip-off of your movie, Wolf."

Wolf took the DVD box from Scar, looked in disgust at the "Hunter" on the cover.

"That looks nothing like me. Or any Yautja, for that matter."

"Yeah, but they don't even use that design. Wait till you see what he actually looks like," Coated man said with a grin.

"I'm just guessing here," said Lex, "but I'd venture to say that this isn't exactly a quality film?"

"I wouldn't exactly say quality, but it's generally watchable."

"I guess I'll take your word for it, then."

The Author smiled, "You don't have to."

He walked over to the DVD player, placed the disk inside of it. The copyright warning appeared. Coated Man sat down, sinking into the couch, smirking.

"I don't like that look," said Carrie, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Oh, but why?" said the Author, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I just can't wait to enjoy this wonderful film."

"This is gonna hurt," said Scar.

\\\\\\\\\\

Forty-five minutes later, they were halfway through the movie. On the screen a character named Valentine had just received the Hunter's "deadly uppercut" for the fifth time (it was the same footage). Valentine rolled, hid in a secret tunnel that he'd had the sense to dig earlier. The Hunter turned away, activated its cloaking.

Lex, Carrie, and Scar were all watching, stunned. Their mindset was slightly akin to those of witnesses to train wrecks; it's so horrible you just can't turn away.

Wolf wasn't as lucky; he was curled into a ball on the floor, covering his ears whispering the Yautja equivalent of "find a happy place".

Scar momentarily snapped out of his reverie to notice that the Coated Man had fallen asleep, his head drooping to his chest.

"Whoa, uh-oh," said Scar, "Carrie, coffee. We need coffee."

Carrie rushed into the kitchen, grabbed a pot of coffee. She held it up to the Author's face. Smelling the black, caffinated liquid, he immediately woke up.

"Whoa, sorry," he said, taking the pot from Carrie, "my defense mechanisms kicked in. My body was protecting itself from harmful agents," he added, gesturing toward the screen. He then downed half the pot with one breath. He wasn't going to sleep tonight.

"Man," said Carrie, "I wish I had those defense mechanisms."

"Bet Wolf does, too," Lex added, looking at the now fragile-looking Yautja warrior.

As the movie continued, so did Scar's feeling that he was being violated. Every time the "Alien" in the movie showed up, Chet got exited and jumped up and down. The Hunter's armor looked worse than it did on the box; it moved just like a human and had a horrible-looking metallic salad bowl suspended over his head. In the end, the Hunter proved to be a bit of a numbskull; the Alien was eventually killed by Lee, the character played by William Katt, who had managed to get his hands on the Hunter's plasma rifle.

"One shot and it's dead?" said Wolf, now recovered from his trance-state, "before the Hunter shot it like fifty times. Is his aim really that bad?"

"I like Lee's 'war cry' after he kills it," said Coated Man, "Kind of like 'I'm the Hunter now'!"

"And now," added Scar, "the Hunter decides to show respect to the new Hunter by walking away and cloaking."

"Yup. Pretty much the biggest Predator cliché of all time is the 'warrior respect' thing."

"And still," Carrie added, "there's the whole ignored subplot regarding Figgus' rant about 'there could be a thousand of them', which there probably are."

"AVH2," said Lex in a mock-narration fashion, "this time, we use every cliché you _didn't_ think of!"

The Author chuckled, "I do believe you're getting better at this than I am. Now, shall we watch another?"

"I don't think my brain could take any more," said Wolf, rubbing the sides of his head as if against a headache.

"Don't worry," said Coated Man, "I've got some pretty decent ones."

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, FEBRUARY 11, 2005

It was about four AM. Throughout the night they had watched several films. Among them were Carnosaur, The Terror Within (both Alien rip-offs in their own way), Omega Man, and Night of the Bloodbeast (Two versions; one was an original Roger Corman film that lasted about an hour, and the second was one that the Author had made himself, which was rather enjoyable). They also watched the Phantom of the Opera, simply because it was Carrie's favorite movie and she would've killed the Author if they didn't.

Carrie and Lex (as well as Chet) had all fallen asleep, but Wolf, Scar, and Coated Man were still wide-awake. They now sat around the table, playing a friendly game of poker.

Scar was about to win one of Wolf's shuriken in a pot that included the Coated Man's dagger, Scar's netgun, and some 8-track tapes that belonged to Wolf, when they suddenly heard a beeping. It didn't take long to trace the sounds to their source: Scar and Wolf's wrist computers. Wolf and Scar immediately opened their computers, looked at them in disbelief.

"Proximity alert," said Wolf, "a Yautja shuttle has entered the atmosphere."

Both Wolf and Scar simultaneously looked at the Coated Man.

"Hey, don't look at me," he said, shrugging.

"Well, we'll at least have more company," said Scar, taking another hearty swig of coffee.


	11. 2x3 Scar vs The Old Flame

Alrighty, then, girls 'n dudefolk, time to wish a very happy belated Valentine's day. Time to return to the world of Lex 'n Scar, and it's certain there's love in the air... and it's not just Lex and Scar (and no, it's not Wolf and Carrie if you're wondering)

The AVP/AVP:R entourage belong to 20th Century Fox.

Karen Eiffel belongs to Columbia Pictures.

Everyone else is mine.

Let's paint the town red.

\\\\\\\\\\

FEBRUARY 11, 2005

The drop pod came down in a water landing about a mile and a half off the coast of Manhattan. It was sufficiently buoyant, so after traveling a good ways beneath the waves, it came right back to the surface. It opened, splitting vertically at the center. The Yautja stepped out, clicking and casting a silhouette against the rising sun.

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, FEBRUARY 15, 2005

The Author walked down the sidewalk, casually sipping his Monster energy drink. He preferred Jolt Cola, but Monster was cheaper. But the relative pricing wasn't really on his mind, for despite the fact that it was pouring in thick sheets, he was in a sickeningly good mood. He was, in fact, rather proud of himself; He had essentially saved Wolf, Scar, and Carrie from certain death. In fact, he could only bring entities into this world from others if they were certain to die; so they wouldn't be missed. Another rule was that they had to be a fictional character where he was from. So, unless Coated Man (or Coat, as the group of characters had come to know him) was a fictional character in Scar, Wolf, Carrie, or Lex's world, they would not be able to enter his world.

Coat briefly passed a pair of people that particularly stood out to him; one was a bony woman with dark circles under her eyes and smoked a cigarette. The other was a shorter, brown-skinned woman. She had an umbrella, but her companion did not.

"Pneumonia," said the bony woman in an English accent, "an interesting way to die. But how would Harold get pneumonia?"

Coat smiled to himself, continued walking; an Author within a fictional universe. It was a slight paradox, but the rules of the Authors didn't prohibit paradoxes. In fact, they encouraged them. Paradoxes make oddities. Oddities make good stories.

He was on his way to the hospital, to check on how the marines and the NY National Guard were doing with the quarantine. He had used a lot of his strength to destroy all of the warriors within, but for some reason he could never effect the chartbusters that may have been inside the patients, Yes, he could alter their biology to make them non-lethal like he'd done with Carrie, but oddly, he could do nothing more.

The Author reached his destination, and found that it was still locked tight. Marines guarded the entrance, while the National Guard helped out inside. There would, of course, be no need for the troops; the real threat was already gone. But the government, as Coat had learned, was a glutton for overkill (Gunnison. Need I say more?).

Like the days before, there was the usual barnacle-like growth of disaster-watchers, eager to at least get a peek of what was happening inside. But one of them stood out to Coat; they were about 6'3", lithe and athletic in build, dressed in a black leather trench coat. From beneath the wide-rimmed fedora came a growth of thick, gold clasped dreadlocks.

"Oh," said the Author.

\\\\\\\\\\

Scar and Wolf were suiting up, getting ready for their first big hunt in weeks for Wolf, but months for Scar. They were finishing up, connecting their plasma casters to their power supplies.

Carrie and Chet both sat on Lex's couch, eating popcorn and watching the 80's version of The Scarlet Pimpernel. Lex, however, was standing by Wolf and Scar as they suited up, looking none-too-pleased.

"I don't see why you don't want me to go, Scar. I mean, why do you think you gave me this?" She said, indicating the mark upon her face.

"I know, Lex, but I don't want to risk it."

"You didn't take me out for Valentine's day. Just consider this a date."

"A date where you could get killed?"

Wolf took a step back, not wanting any part of this.

"Yes," Lex said, nodding, "I _could_ get killed. But I _won't_. It'll be fun."

"Fun, yes. Hunts can be entertaining, but _dangerous_."

"And besides," chipped in Wolf, "You don't have any weapons. You wouldn't be able to do anything."

"Nobody asked you," snapped Lex.

Wolf stepped back once more. _Man, she could get scary…_

"If there's a risk, I'm fine if I'm taking it with you."

That softened Scar a bit, but he still said, "I will not allow you to go without sufficient weapons."

Lex sat down in a chair, defeated.

There was a knock on the door, and Lex answered, a little to snippily, "It's open!"

Coat entered through the door, and Lex immediately stood, accosting him.

"Hey, Coat, can I hunt with Wolf and Scar?"

"Don't see why not," said the Author, not really paying much attention to the question, "I left some equipment on your bed."

Lex smiled like a kid at Christmas, ran to her room.

Coat immediately went to Scar, said, "we have issues. There's -- "

But he was immediately cut off by Scar, "You are right that we have issues. Why you letting her hunt? She is not strong enough to hunt, yet. She is Youngblood. If you were not the Author, I'd wreak all of the pain and -- "

"If you would just _listen_ for a single second. You won't be thinking this way when you see the equipment I got for her. And if you'll let me inform you of the issue at hand, I believe you'll be interested."

"Alright," said Scar, calming down, "what is the issue?"

"You remember the drop pod that came down a few days ago, yeah?"

"Yes?"

"The Yautja that came down… Well, I kinda, ya know… met her today."

Scar paled visibly.

"_Her?_"

"Um… Yeah. And she doesn't know that I know, but she kinda followed me home. 'cause she knew I noticed her. She's probably outside right now. She's fairly street-smart -- I think she speaks English."

"_Her?_"

"Yes, Scar. _Her_."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," said Wolf, who was now sitting with Carrie, watching the movie.

The door opened, and from outside stepped the Huntress.

She was still dressed in her black leather trench coat, but her fedora was gone, revealing her bio-mask; a wicked-looking piece, even more fierce-looking than Wolf or Scar's, raven black, rimmed with gleaming blades that met at the top to form a deadly coronet.

"Hello, G'raal," she said in perfect English, "you probably weren't expecting me."

Scar blinked, not believing what he was seeing.

"Ha'mayen?" He said in disbelief, "why you here?"

"Partly for the hunt. I was traveling on a scout ship near Earth when I heard the news of the Hard-Meat infestation in a city called Manhattan. But I was even more eager to come when I found out that you were here."

She was stepping very near Scar, frighteningly intimately, making him step back uncomfortably.

"Me? Why me?"

"I wish to begin anew."

"I thought you wished to never see me again."

Ha'mayen cocked her head, "why do you say that?"

"I believe it is because of the time you said you never wished to see me again."

"That was before you were Blooded, G'raal. You were too caught up in your training, too occupied with your coming Blooding."

"I am still on the hunt."

"Not right now."

She was much too close for comfort now. She was very attractive by Yautja standards; lean, muscular, dreadlocks that reached all the way to her waist. But looking at her, all he could see was memories of heartache. She had pledged to be his mate once he was Blooded, but three Earth-days before his Blooding, she simply left him. He had grieved deeply, and was almost unable to hunt. This was perhaps the reason he fell so easily in love (yes, he did consider it love now, but was still unable to express his feelings verbally) with Lex.

Scar took Ha'mayen by the shoulders, moved her gently away from him.

"Ha'mayen, this is too bold of you. You betrayed me, cast mw into grief. And now, you suddenly return, before the hunt, asking for my forgiveness? You know I cannot do this."

"I know, but in time, you will return my feeling. I am sure of this."

At this time, Lex returned from her room, now in full battle-armor. She looked exceedingly fierce, almost like a medieval warrior. The armor was tight-fitting and small, but recognizably Yautjan. She had a Jungle Hunter-Class shoulder cannon, wristblades, a pair of shuriken, and a sword that was made of black steel and the tail of a Hard-Meat. She noticed Ha'mayen.

"Um, hello," she said.

Ha'mayen cocked her head, noticed the warrior symbol on Lex's face. She immediately understood. She looked at Scar.

"You have marked this ooman as your mate?"

Scar's eyes widened.

Lex's did, too.

"Wait a second," she said, "_mate_?"

"No, no, no, no, no. No. No. I… Um…"

"You cannot hide it from me, G'raal. You will not have me because you already have pledged yourself to a mate."

"She… Ha'mayen… It's…" Scar stammered.

Ha'mayen turned, walked out the door.

"Well," said Coat, "that was interesting."

"Looks like we have a bit of a soap opera unfolding," said Carrie, a smile on her face.

"_Mate_?" Lex said once more, incredulity thick in her voice.

"I tried top tell you so many times, Lex," Scar said, embarrassment heavy in his voice, "When you bear the mark of another's family, you enter _into_ their family."

"Why?"

Scar didn't have to ask her what she meant.

"Because I feel great feelings for you. Even greater than the ones I once felt for Ha'mayen. What I mean to say is…

I love you, Alexa Woods."

Lex stood for a moment, speechless. He actually felt this way, and they weren't even the same species. But the thing that shocked Lex even more was the fact that, deep down, she had reciprocated his feelings all along.

She loved him.

She went to him, tears causing a sheen in her eyes, and he stood. They embraced each other tightly, feeling now the emotions that they had only ever felt a ghost of.

After a few moments in which they held each other, Coat loudly cleared his throat.

"Um… the hunt?"

"Yes," Scar said, not letting go of Lex, "the hunt."

\\\\\\\\\\

The group assembled outside the apartment, around a manhole that Coat was positive would lead them directly into the Alien hive. Wolf, Scar, Lex, and Coat were now in full battle-armor. Coat had his shotgun at the ready, two katana crisscrossed at his back. His right arm was clasped in a sleeve of black steel.

"Alright," said Coat, "like I told you, we're here to destroy a hive full of a rogue strain of Aliens who's Queen won't follow my orders. We get in, kill the Queen, get out. Any questions?"

"Yes," came a bitter voice from behind them.

From the shadows stepped Ha'mayen. Scar took a step back in an almost ritualistic gesture of bitterness and rejection.

"Is there any room he for a Huntress?" said Ha'mayen.

"Sure," said Coat, "but you can't use Yautja names in this club, sister. From now on, you're Raven. Got that?"

"Whatever you say, but I'd prefer to choose my own nickname."

"I'd take it if I were you," said Scar, his voice dark, "you're lucky if he doesn't turn you into a toad."

Coat nodded. "In or out?"

"In. I could use a good hunt."

"Good. We could use the help. Are we set?"

Everyone acknowledged their readiness of the task at hand. Wolf opened up the manhole cover, prepped his plasma casters. Lex slid on the customized bio-mask Coat had given her, and they plunged into the darkness.

They thankfully landed on dry ground, which Lex found to be odd, for this was a storm drain. The thankfulness, however, was short-lived, as Coat lit a road flare, illuminating the room in an eerie orange glow.

The room was covered in hard, secreted resin; months-old skeletons with exploded chests were glued to the walls.

"This is the hive that's been causing all of the trouble for the past few months," said Coat, "the hive got even bigger when I fell asleep."

"Let's move along," said Wolf.

They moved into a tight tunnel, Coat switching to a fresh flare; he had a whole bandoleer of them strapped to his chest.

They moved into a nursery chamber with hundreds of eggs filling it and fresh hosts glued to the walls. They took some time to sidetrack and destroy the eggs, as well as cut the hosts down from the wall. They continued on.

When they reached the adjoining chamber, Coat suddenly paused, cocked his head.

"GET DOWN!" He screamed as he blasted the ceiling with his shotgun.

An Alien fell from the ceiling, a hole in its face.

Suddenly, Aliens poured from everywhere, swarming about the group of hunters.

Plasma casters lit up, whips cracked, Aliens shrieked.

An Alien rose up behind Coat, ready to punch its tongue through his head, but he spun around, jamming his shotgun into its mouth. He then proceeded to blow the back of its head off.

It fell backward, acid spraying into Coat's face. Half of it melted away, revealing the off-white bone of his skull. He gritted his teeth in pain as the flesh grew back in an instant.

Scar grabbed an Alien Runner by the throat, stabbed it in the gut with his wristblades before screaming "SUCK WALL!" and then slamming the beast into the side of the tunnel.

Right beside him, Lex cut down numerous Aliens with her acid-proof blade while her shoulder cannon did the rest.

The hunter and the ooman exchanged a look, smiled (though neither could tell that the other was smiling, for they had masks on, but it was a look that is more felt rather than seen).

On the other side of the chamber, Wolf watched in wonderment as Raven grabbed an Alien by the throat, head-butted it, threw it to the floor, spun around, smashed an Alien's face in with her fist, then whiplashed back and decapitated yet another Hard-Meat.

To Wolf, she looked like an angel, some sort of celestial being that would not release him from this spell of wonderment…

He was so enamored with Raven that he was only fighting the insectile hordes with half of his brain, but his dual plasma casters did most of the work for him.

Finally, after sufficient acid splattering, the ranks of the Aliens had thinned to a few weak, wounded warriors.

Coat walked to one of the wounded ones, put a slug in its brain. He turned it over, studied it; it had a smooth head, was slightly grayish in color.

"Royal Drone," he explained, "we're close to the Queen."

It was an understatement, for the Queen was literally right next to them in the adjoining chamber. They found her, attached to the ceiling in a lofty, throne-like position. The egg sac behind her constantly produced gooey eggs.

Coat walked up to it, smirked.

"You been a bad girl, Queenie. And when you're bad, no good can come of it."

Before the Queen could even shriek, Coat leapt up, unsheathed his katana, deftly swiped at the Queen's head.

He landed, sheathed his blades as the hard chitin of the Queen's face clattered to the floor. The headless, unmoving body was still attached to the ceiling, like some Lovecraftian nightmare captured as a statue.

Coat turned to the others.

"Our work here is done."

\\\\\\\\\\

They returned to Lex's apartment, exhausted, their armor pocked with small acid burns. Wolf still couldn't keep his eyes off of Raven. Carrie and Chet were now watching an episode of Firefly.

"Welcome back," said Carrie, "I assume your trip was productive?"

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Coat said in a very sarcastic tone.

Carrie smiled, "being pregnant gives you certain perks."

Scar and Lex collapsed on one of the couches, exhausted but exceedingly joyful. There was reason to be joyful; by the Yautja code, they were officially married.

Raven leaned against the wall, Wolf simply staring at her.

"That was the best hunt I've had in a while," said Raven.

"Yeah," said Wolf, sounding almost like he was drunk.

"Hopefully the last one for a while," said Coat.

"Yeah," said Wolf.

"I won't be leaving anytime soon, so I'll need some place to stay."

"Yeah," Wolf, of course.

"Can I stay here?"

"No," Scar said, not even looking at her.

Raven crossed her arms.

"I believe Scar is, well… not open to any long-term visitors right now," said Coat, "but I believe Wolf has some space available at his place."

"Yeah," said -- well, you can guess by now.

"Would be honored to share a residence with an Elder, master Ra'chta."

"Yeah."

"If I may, I will be retiring now. Good night."

She gave a brief bow of respect, then exited.

"Man," said Carrie, "she's something, isn't she?"

"Yeah."


	12. 2x4 Scar vs The Hidden Thief

\/p>

Hullo! Sorry for the huge wait, but computer problems have forced me to use nauseating means of transcription. But, we're finally back, so don't worry.

On another note, I'm surprised to see that nobody's posted on the L&S Idea board in the Alien/Predator discussion section. I really need those ideas, and I would think people would be delighted to insert their own ideas on how to torture Lex & Scar!

Now, on to the story.

Wolf, Carrie, Lex, Scar, Chet, the Aliens (and Aliens characters) are copyrights of 20th Century Fox.

Coat and Raven are my ideas, so they's mine to keep.

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, MARCH 17, 2005

"Check mate," Carrie declared as she moved her Queen into position.

Chet gave a low, defeated groan, slammed her face on the table, scattering the chess pieces everywhere. They were playing with Coat's Aliens Special Edition Board, with Chet on the side of the Marines and Carrie on the side of the Aliens.

Carrie looked sympathetically at the predalien that was now practically sobbing. 

"Best three out of five?"

Chet looked up at her, nodded. They began to set the pieces back up.

At the other end of the room, Coat was leaning behind his DVD cabinet, over which a sign hung that read "MOSES' DVD COLLECTION". 

"Screwdriver, please," he called out from behind the cabinet, "I think I see the loose connection."

Scar, standing next to him, handed him the screwdriver.

"Come on, you PIECE OF – "

"Where have you been the past few weeks? I thought we were have another movie night," Scar asked.

"Here, hold onto these," said Coat, holding out a large bundle of tangled wires. Scar obliged. "I had some business in another universe. I had to drop some new weapons off and supervise the plot."

"What universe was this in?"

"Classified Author business, Scar."

He grunted, and the screen of the Author's absurdly large TV flickered, and finally turned on. It depicted a large map marred by red spots; some names of cities depicted were Gotham, Metropolis, and Jump City. 

"We're good," Coat said, straightening up. He then caught sight of the screen, his eyes widening. "Oops."

He hurried over, bashed the side of the screen once. The DVD menu for Carnosaur flickered in.

"Sorry about that."

"Let me guess," said Scar, "Author business?"

"Exactly."

"All of the secretiveness and wondering what your doing half of the time, and what do we get out of it?"

"Free drink coupons at Starbucks?" said Coat.

Scar's face curled into the Yautja equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

"Seriously, Scar. I saved your life. Isn't that enough?"

"I guess," Scar said, defeated.

Coat walked over to the refrigerator, opened it. His eyes widened when he leaned down and grasped only air. 

"What the," he said, shocked, "all my energy drinks are gone!"

He dropped to his knees, clasped the sides of his head melodramatically, "I need them to live!"

At this time, Wolf entered through the door, looking none-too-pleased.

"Hello, Wolf," said Scar, over the sobbing of the destroyed Author.

Wolf ignored him and headed straight for the chess table, where Carrie had already captured Chet's Queen and both Knights.

"Where are they?" Wolf addressed Carrie angrily.

"Where are what?"

"What do you mean, 'where are what'? You know full well 'what'! The DVDs you stole!"

"...What DVDs?"

"Don't play dumb! You stole the Charles Dance and Robert Englund versions of 'Phantom of the Opera'!"

"You don't understand – "

"I understand perfectly. There're just some pregnant women that like to steal DVDs."

"No, you _don't understand_. I wouldn't steal your DVDs because I've already got Dance and Englund."

Wolf cocked his head, "Then who..."

Raven took this opportunity to barge into the room, bearing the same unpleased look that Wolf took into the room.

"Someone stole my mask. I am not pleased."

Now Lex entered.

"Guys, has anyone seen my laptop -?"

Everyone simultaneously turned to look at her.

"I guess I'm not the only one with a problem."

"There is a thief in our midst," Coat intoned.

\\\\\\\\\\

A floor map of the four apartments was placed onto the table, followed closely by a large mug of coffee. Coat, Carrie, Lex, Scar, Raven, Wolf and Scar gathered around the table.

"Alright. Given the close timeframe of the thefts, and the fact that we haven't seen the thief, we can assume he's probably using this system of air vents," Coat said, pointing to a network of tunnels on the map, "We can also assume from the recentness of the thefts that the thief is indeed still in the building; possibly within one of the air vents."

"Okay," said Raven, "Then the best way should be to climb into the vents and flush him out."

"We can't all go in," said Lex, "there needs to be a guard for each of the vent exits to catch the thief as soon as they exit the vent."

"I'll go," said Coat, "I'm the only one small enough to get around in there, anyway. Raven can take my apartment, Lex and Carrie can take her apartment, Scar can take his and Lex's, and Wolf can cover his own. Any questions?"

Silence.

"Good. Dismissed."

\\\\\\\\\\

"Alright," said Coat, his voice echoing slightly within the cramped shaft, "I'm in."

"Okay," Carrie's voice came over his radio, "the first intersection is about three meters ahead. Go down one level and turn right."

He continued for three meters and came to a drop. As he climbed the ladder, he said, "I find it only fair to warn you that I'm slightly claustrophobic. I you hear me screaming and crying, just tell me to snap out of it and I'll be fine."

"Will do."

Coat reached the next level and turned right.

"Alright, I'm in the tunnel."

"Head forward another meter. According to the map, there's an emergency maintenance hatch to your left. It'll lead into a large storage box. That's the most likely place he'll be hiding."

Coat opened the hatch, shone his flashlight within just to see a pair of legs disappear into another passage above.

He dashed in, shining his flashlight into the small hole.

"He's escaped into a ceiling hatch."

"That leads into the next tunnel. There should be a hatch to the adjoining passage in front of you."

He opened the hatch, the figure of the thief dashing past him. He grasped at the fleeing figure to no avail.

"Man, he's fast!"

He watched as the thief headed toward the exit of the tunnel.

"Carrie, she's headed right for you!"

\\\\\\\\\\

Without warning, the vent grate burst open, liberating a small girl in tattered clothes. Lex caught the figure in a bear hug, the girl's blond hair flying about as she thrashed against Lex's grasp.

"Just a little girl..." said Carrie.

"OUCH!" exclaimed Lex as she felt a sudden pain in her hand. She immediately dropped the girl, examining her hand; the girl had bit her.

The girl ran and hid underneath a coffee table.

Coat climbed out of the ventilator, neatly landing on his feet.

"Where is she?"

Carrie pointed, "underneath the coffee table."

Coat started toward the coffee table, where he now could see the figure of a little girl crouching underneath it.

"Careful," said Lex, nursing her hand, "she bites."

Coat lifted an eyebrow at the familiarity of the situation. He continued his approach toward the cowering figure underneath the table.

"It's alright," he said, his tone gentle, "no one's gonna hurt you."

He finally arrived at the table, crouched down. His eyes widened in shocked recognition as he saw the face of the little girl.

"Who are you? Where's Ripley?"

\\\\\\\\\\

"Rebecca 'Newt' Jorden. Born March 24, 2155 on Lunar colony _Liberation_. You're about eleven years old, now."

"Yeah," said the girl, sitting on Coat's couch. He had gotten her a mug of hot cocoa, "That's right."

"You're mother's name was Anne, your father's name Russell, brother Timothy. You were found by a squad of Colonial Marines when Xenomorphs invaded Hadley's Hope colony on Acheron. That's when you met a Marine named Hicks and a woman named Ripley."

"How do you know so much about me?"

"I can't exactly explain _how_ – "

"He's your guardian angel, sweetie," said Carrie, sitting down next to the girl.

Coat shot her a dirty look, but decided to follow along, "Yeah, sure. You could think of me that way."

Newt looked at Carrie, at her stomach.

"You have monsters in your tummy," she intoned.

Carrie's eyes widened, and she stood up.

"How do you know that?"

"I don't know. I just do."

"Few weeks of hiding in ventilation shafts from Hard-Meat," said Wolf, "it would seem only logical that you would start to feel their presence."

"Like a sixth sense," said Coat, "an 'alien sense'."

"They're not gonna hurt you, right?" Newt asked Carrie.

"No, they're not, honey."

"They're not monsters," said Coat, "They're aliens. Good aliens."

"Okay."

Chet took this opportunity to enter the room, munching on a package of Gummi Savers.

Newt caught sight of her, screamed, jumping into Carrie's arms.

Chet also screamed, ducking underneath a table, covering her head.

"It's okay, it's okay!" said Carrie, trying to calm Newt down.

"Look," said Coat softly, approaching the cowering predalien. He placed his hand on Chet's head, patting it gently, as much reassuring Chet as he was Newt. Chet slowly emerged from underneath the table, sitting on all fours. "See? She's nice."

Newt looked unsurely at Carrie, who nodded, putting her down. The girl cautiously approached the predalien.

"Go ahead. It's okay."

She reached out, put her hand on the hard chitin of Chet's head. The large predalien began to purr happily. Newt smiled cautiously.

"See? She likes you."

Newt giggled, playing with Chet's dreadlocks. With the girl preoccupied, Coat walked over and joined the others.

"What we going to do with her?" asked Scar.

"Well," said Coat, "she seems to have taken a shine to you, Carrie. Maybe she can stay with you."

"I've got a spare room, but no bed, yet. She'll have to sleep on my sofa in the meantime." She looked at Newt, smiled. "I can use the practice, anyway."

Newt looked at her, returning the smile.

\/p> 


	13. Scar vs Comicon Part I

Alright, I guess something like this deserves a proper introduction. What you are about to read is pretty much what I've been working up to all season. If ever there were a Lex and Scar original TV movie, this would be it. I hope you enjoy it; I've been working on the concept ever since I started the Adventures.

Fasten your seatbelts and get ready for my three-part miniseries: Scar vs. ComiCon.

(AVP and AVP:R characters are copyrighted by 20th Century Fox)

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, APRIL 13, 2005

) ) )_ Coat _( ( (

_Morning._

_The hunt._

_Not really used to being up this early. My friends insisted._

_The sun is just beginning to show its bright face in the horizon._

_Leaping across the rooftops. My knees scrape in the gravel. I wince, but pay no real heed; the skin will grow back._

_The concrete jungle. _

_Manhattan is my territory. My home._

_I catch movement to my right. _

_I turn, but the figure is already gone. _

_Cloaking, maybe?_

_I switch to heat vision._

_Nothing._

_Bioelectricity._

_Nothing._

_Sonic._

_Predtech._

_CT._

_Zip._

_...Slippery fish._

_Heat signature. Left. Gone in an instant. I spin, catch sight of my quarry. He raises his wristblades. _

_Sloppy, my friend._

_In a single, fluid motion, I slice his wristblades in half with my katana; grasp the much larger hunter by the throat, hoisting him off his feet. _

"_Game over, friend."_

_Suddenly, cold steel is pressed to my throat._

\\\\\\\\\\

"Game over, Coat," Raven said, using the Author's voice. She sheathed her wristblades, taking a bit of care not to slice open Coat's neck.

"I hate it when she does that," he mused to himself, "I didn't know you were out here?"

"First rule of the hunter: expect everything."

"Sure. Never heard that one," he said, highly sarcasized. Then added, "Got anything about 'expect your opponent to cheat'?"

"You're being a sore looser," Wolf said, "And besides, you're the Author. You could, I don't know, strike us with lightning or something."

Coat groaned, "Why does everybody think I'm God?!"

\\\\\\\\\\

Carrie and Newt walked down the street, carrying armfuls of bags. Carrie had taken the girl shopping for new clothes, and they'd already visited about fifteen different stores.

"So," Carrie asked, "Where do you want to go next?"

Newt itched her shoulder through her black t-shirt.

"These clothes feel weird."

"I'm sure clothes are quite a bit different a hundred years from now. You'll get used to them."

Newt suddenly got a strange, distant look on her face as she stopped. Carrie noticed this, walked over to her. She knelt to Newt's level.

"What's wrong?"

"My guardian angel," she hesitated, "Coat... he didn't say what happened to Ripley."

"I'm sure she's fine, hon."

"She's dead isn't she?"

Carrie grimaced. "No. No, she's not. Coat wouldn't let something like that happen."

"Then why isn't she here?"

Carrie had no answer to that.

"Newt... Sometimes Coat... he can't..."

"He can't do anything about it."

Carrie smiled, "You'd be surprised about the kinda stuff he can do, luv."

Newt hugged her.

"Now," Carrie said, straightening, "Let's get back to the apartment. I'm sure Coat needs me to make more coffee."

As they were walking, Carrie suddenly noticed a public bulletin board that she had seen before. She smiled broadly as she noticed one bulletin in particular.

\\\\\\\\\\

) ) )_ Scar _( ( (

_The computer technologies of oomans are, shall I say, rudimentary at best. Their primary means of information transfer is a digital link called the "internet". _

_It is painfully primitive._

_For one, it only displays information on "pages"._

_Like books._

_It is slow. The images are two-dimensional. And absolutely nothing can be trusted._

_I look across the "page" before me: ALIEN HUNTERS ON THE LOOSE? And a very roughly drawn sketch of me, Wolf, and Raven._

_Ha._

_Wolf has eight mandibles._

_I have a Hard-Meat skull on my spear._

_Only it is green, and has two, bulging eyes._

_And it's on the Weekly World News._

_Our secret remains safe._

_I flip over to some real news; FIREFLY MOVIE IN THE MAKING?!_

\\\\\\\\\\

Lex was making a fresh pot of coffee. Coat had just returned from training with Wolf and Raven, and he was dangerously close to falling asleep. Lex silently prayed that her coffee proved to be as caffeine-heavy as Carrie's.

Coat took the mug she offered gratefully and took a sip.

"I'm just saying it ain't fair to team up on me without telling me."

"You're still being a sore looser?" said Raven, "Get over it."

"Yeah. You're acting like a Newblood," agreed Wolf. He agreed with Raven quite often.

"You're just lucky I didn't have my powers on full blast."

Carrie took this opportunity to enter through the door unannounced, Newt in close tow. She wore an enormous grin.

"You look particularly giddy today," said Coat, "What's goin' on?"

"Oh, nothing," she said sarcastically, "I just... won eight FIRST-CLASS ROUNDTRIP TICKETS TO COMICON 2005 IN PITTSBURGH!"

Coat's eyes widened, "Comicon!?"

"Comicon," Carrie said.

Wolf repeated, "Comicon?"

"What that?" Asked Scar.

Coat turned to him, "The largest and most popular comic book convention on the planet."

"I've got enough tickets for everybody, so," Carrie smiled, "who wants to come?"

Seven hands rose simultaneously.

\\\\\\\\\\

JOHN F. KENNEDY AIRPORT, NEW YORK CITY

Scar clicked a strong barrage of curses as he stared down an old enemy.

_The escalator._

Scar knew he shouldn't be afraid of things so... mundane in the human lifestyle, but he wished this cursed thing would just die.

He took one cautious step forward, then quickly followed with his other foot. He clicked proudly to himself as he ascended. He finally reached the top, found solid footing, and raised his fist in silent triumph.

When he snapped out of his reverie, he noticed his seven companions, looking at him, annoyed.

"What?"

"What took you so long?" asked Carrie, "We've been waiting up here for like fifteen minutes."

"I think our little G'raal has a phobia he didn't tell us about," said Raven smugly.

Coat snorted, suppressing a laugh.

"It isn't funny! The escalator's scary!"

\\\\\\\\\\

"How are we gonna get into the terminal?" asked Lex, "if you haven't noticed, we look kinda... conspicuous."

Coat smiled. "I did think of that. All of you who aren't human, go ahead and close your eyes."

Chet cocked her head.

"I mean... Everyone who has eyes, close them and don't open them till I say so."

Scar closed his eyes tightly, and he felt a tingling sensation fill his body. It abruptly stopped when he heard Coat say;

"Alright, you can open them."

The first thing Scar noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was about a whole foot shorter. He still loomed over Coat, Lex, Carrie and Newt, but...

His hands!

Soft... short nails... pink skin...

He was human.

He ran over to a window, looking at his reflection.

He had chiseled features, a slightly pointed nose (he had a nose!), green eyes, brown, spiky hair.

Suddenly, Wolf and Raven came up next to him, doing the same as he.

He almost didn't recognize them, but in a strange way, their new appearances... suited them.

Wolf was much older than him (Scar looked about twenty, while Wolf looked about forty), with a rounder head, buzzcut black hair and a matching goatee.

Raven was much shorter than both of them (about 5'6"), around twenty, black hair with blue highlights, and blue eyes.

They eyed themselves and each other, shocked.

They looked back at Coat, who smiled.

"It's only temporary... just until we get to Pittsburgh. Y'know, so nobody cries 'terrorist'."

They now noticed Chet; she was now a girl of about fifteen, with blonde hair braided into dreadlocks. She sat on all fours next to Coat, licking his hand. Her eyes were wide, as she clearly was not used to having them.

"Rowr," she said.

\\\\\\\\\\

They were now headed for their gate, and it was a lot easier going now that the escalator was past, even though there were many more people.

Scar liked the moving sidewalk a bit more than the escalator, but it still got a black mark on his mental list of ooman objects.

But Newt loved it.

The speed of her dashing across it and it moving forward at the same time combined in an effect that made her look like the Flash.

As Scar, Lex, Carrie, Chet, Wolf and Raven simply rode it, she would continually barge past them, get off, run to the back, and get back on again. Apparently, such fun things as this don't exist in the future.

They got off the sidewalk and looked at the flight schedule; American Airlines to Pittsburgh was to depart at twelve PM.

Wolf looked at the clock. It was only ten AM. In unison, the group groaned in annoyance.

"What are we do until then?" asked Scar.

"Find a bookstore?" suggested Raven.

"Wander the terminal?" Wolf.

"Ride the sidewalk?" Newt.

"Sit down?" Carrie.

"Rowr?" Well... you can guess.

"Well," Coat said, staring wide-eyed past them, "I think I've got something we can all agree on..."

He pointed behind them, and they all turned, saw what he was looking at.

A Starbucks, glimmering as if it were a celestial body.

"It's... beautiful..." said Coat, tears in his eyes.

\\\\\\\\\\

Their time at the Starbucks was rather uneventful, but passable. Lex took advantage of the coffee shop's wireless Internet, while the rest enjoyed the coffee and told stories. Carrie stood outside the shop and supervised Newt on the sidewalk, until she convinced the girl to stop and come into Starbucks, where Carrie bought her a hot cocoa. The only real incident was around eleven forty, when Chet suddenly jumped over the counter and began frantically eating coffee beans. The group was subsequently kicked out.

But the next twenty minutes passed quickly, and the plane began to board.

\\\\\\\\\\

"You sure this is safe?" Scar said nervously.

Lex uncomfortably changed positions uncomfortably as she attempted to relieve the pain of Scar's grip on her hand. But she was mostly used to it.

Mostly.

"Yes, Scar, I'm sure. What're you worried about? You've traveled by spaceship before, how can this be any different?"

Scar looked around himself, his eyes wide with fear.

"Because," he said, "That's Yautja technology. This is... ooman technology. It's different."

"You're saying you've got something wrong with human technology?"

"No, it's just..."

"You're saying you don't trust humans in general?"

"No. Humans are fine."

"Then why should you worry?"

Scar sighed, and his shoulders dropped, only for them to tense back up when the plane started to move, the flight attendant's voice reminding them to make sure their tray tables were up and their seat backs in the full, upright position.

"We're gonna die..." said Scar nervously, "Were gonna DIE!!"

"We're not going to die, Scar. We're just flying."

"That's why we're gonna die."

"Scar, we're safe. We're in the air. Please let go of my hand?"

Scar looked around. "We're flying... We're flying!!"

He laughed nervously, then frowned.

"WE'RE FLYING!!"

He jumped from his seat, smashing his head against the ceiling, then running down the aisle, screaming.

He stopped when a flight attendant suddenly appeared out of nowhere, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to return to your seat. You're frightening the other passengers."

Scar seemed to shrink by several feet as he returned to Lex and sat down, his eyes still wide with terror.

"It's okay, Scar," said Lex, "It's gonna be alright. Wolf and Raven seem fine."

Wolf was sitting in the seat across from them, reading a magazine. Next to him, Raven casually turned the magazine right side up, as Wolf was reading it upside down. She then resumed the reading of her book.

\\\\\\\\\\

A few seats back, Carrie, Newt, Coat, and Chet all sat in the same row. Coat was enjoying a fresh cup of coffee as Chet practically vibrated in her seat (I guess the only thing worse than a Predalien in human form is a Predalien in human form with ADD)

"Rowr," she said impatiently.

"Chet, please," said Coat, "I've got a lot to do before we get to Comicon."

"Rowr..." she replied disappointedly.

She began to read a magazine, but her attention was immediately stolen as the drink cart wheeled by. Before the stewardess knew what was going on, Chet jumped onto the cart, throwing her arms in the air with a cry of delight.

Coat buried his face in his hands.

"What did I do to deserve this?"

\\\\\\\\\\

DAY 1

They made it to Pittsburgh alive, despite the constant warnings of impending doom that came from Scar.

They took a cab from the airport to their hotel, where they checked in and dropped off their baggage. From there, they made their way to Comicon.

They stepped out of the cab, now in their natural forms, and headed toward the large building that housed Comicon this year.

"Now remember, guys," Coat told them, "Once we get inside, just act casual. There's no need to be on the defensive here, and when we get inside, you'll see why."

They made their way to the entrance, which, Scar noted, seemed to be a magnet for Trekkies; he could've sworn that he saw at least five Spocks and around two-dozen Kirks.

After a short wait in line, they came to the man admitting them in; he was sturdily built man of about thirty, who was comfortably dressed as Han Solo with a short, brown coat and a Blaster secured at his hip.

"Tickets, please?"

"We got a group of eight, here," said Coat, handing him the tickets.

The doorman stared wide-eyed as the "guests" filed past him. Though in civilian clothes, Wolf, Scar and Raven looked exceedingly imposing.

"Nice costumes, huh?" said Lex, walking past, "We've been working on 'em for months."

\\\\\\\\\\

Comicon 2005 was taking place in a very large hotel, with the main event occurring in the lobby. They had not been able to get rooms at this particular hotel because it was totally booked.

The lobby was filled with stands and kiosks of every imaginable variety (except for alien and predator, of course). Coat took notice of one particular kiosk that was surrounded by a large group of people wearing long, brown coats.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," he said, moving past them toward the kiosk, "this is my stop."

He reached the crowd, and was greeted warmly. Scar could not make out any conversation, but he heard several shouts of "shiny" and various Chinese phrases.

Chet was also enjoying herself; she was now standing in front of a large fan that maintained the temperature in the lobby, her dreadlocks and inner mouth blowing wildly behind her.

"What're you guys supposed to be?" Scar heard a voice say from somewhere to his side.

He turned, and found a boy of about sixteen, with raven black hair and shadowed eyes. He wore a long, black suede duster that fell in bunches at his feet. As he spoke, he did not face Scar, but instead looked forward, at something seemingly very interesting, but only he could see.

"Are you aliens or something?"

"Close," said Lex, "They're predators. Alien hunters from outer space."

"Hmm," said the coated boy, "very original."

"Thank you," Raven said.

"My name is Damian," He said, extending his hand. He still averted his eyes.

"Scar. And these are my associates, Wolf and Raven."

Raven seemed to take a slight offense at being called his "associate".

"Nice to meet you. Well, I gotta get going. I've got things to do."

Damian turned, disappeared into the crowd.

"There was something strange about him," said Wolf.

"He would not look at me," Scar said, staring at where Damian had disappeared to.

"Guys," Coat shouted, running up to them, "you would not believe who I saw in the crowd!"

He paused, thought, "Well, I guess you would believe it, since you've never heard of him."

"Who was it?" asked Lex.

"A character from another world. He's really, really evil. His name's Sy-"

He was suddenly cut off when the lights failed.

Chet squealed in disappointment as the fan turned off.

When the lights came back on a second later, someone immediately screamed bloody murder. The room erupted into unintelligible conversation as everybody crowded toward the source of the scream.

Shoving through the crowd, the group of predators and humans tried to make their way toward where everybody was looking.

When they finally reached the center of the teeming crowd, what they saw was both a shock and not surprising at the same time (it can happen); laying on the floor was a teenaged girl dressed in a Star Wars shirt with an Ewok on it, a facehugger wrapped around her head.

Scar, Lex, Wolf, Raven and Carrie simultaneously looked at Coat.

"Don't look at me, it's not one of mine!"

"Then who...?" Scar said.

At the other end of the room, Damian stood in the shadows, smirking. His eyes blinked, turning completely black.

"Now the fun begins."


	14. Scar vs Comicon Part II

Okay, I am really sorry for the disgustingly long lull, and it's inexcusable, but things have been very busy in the real world. And hey, guess what? Your waiting will be rewarded, because very soon we'll be seeing... the Lex and Scar Animated Webseries! But until then...

Part II of Scar vs. Comicon.

Roll film.

\\\\\\\\\\

DAY 2

PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA, APRIL 14, 2005

) ) )_ Lex _( ( (

_Okay, this is how it feels to be me right now. _

_I'm married to a Yautja, for starters. _

_That's a weird statement in and of itself. _

_Next, I find out that we're going on what seems to be an actual vacation. But lo and behold, some really freakish crap decides to start happening. _

_Now this vacation is becoming another hunt._

_And it's not any normal hunt._

_Coat says that there might be _other _fictional characters involved. From comics, movies, TV shows, everything._

_And another Author. _

_One as powerful as Coat. Maybe more so._

_An this guy's got some real malicious intent._

_So here I sit at the edge of a hotel bed, discussing what to do about it with four monsters, a pregnant waitress, and an interdimensional fanboy._

\\\\\\\\\\

"You're sure it's another Author?" asked Carrie worriedly.

"I'm certain. There's nothing else that could suddenly generate a facehugger spontaneously in the middle of a crowd. And counteract my power," the Coated Man replied, taking a drink of his Monster.

"How is the girl?" Asked Wolf.

"She'll be fine. Unfortunately, though, the only way to counteract the chestburster was to have Chet facegrab her. No big deal, though. Only some discomfort for her."

"Has she been taken to a hospital yet?" Asked Lex.

"That's just it. All communications -- cellphone, landlines, internet -- are completely blocked off. Aside from moving from the hotel to Comicon, we have no contact with the outside world."

"We can still go to get help though, right?" said Lex.

"No."

He walked over to the window, moved the curtains back. They all looked out the window to see what appeared to be a normal cityscape -- that stretched several yards, but just suddenly ended in inky blackness.

"What is this?" Wolf said in disbelief.

"Ambiguity Barrier," explained Coat, "Nothing gets in or out. It's as if neither side exists to the other. Only an Author could make something like that."

"So," said Carrie, "What do we do?"

"We stop him. If we apprehend him, everything he has done will dissolve."

"Only problem is," Scar said, "We don't know where he is or even _who_ he is."

At that moment, they heard a knock on the door. Coat removed his shotgun from the holster on his back, slowly moved toward the door, looked out the peephole. His wary look was soon replaced with a pleased smile as he opened the door. Behind the door was a boy of about Coat's age, only slightly shorter, with blue eyes, a mop of messy brown hair, wearing a black t-shirt emblazoned with a silver helix.

"Davis!" shouted Coat, catching the blue-eyed kid in a bear hug.

"Good to see you too, Coat."

"What're you doing here?"

"Heard you were at Comicon. Decided to drop over, catch some of the action."

"You might've bit off more than you can chew in that department."

"Excuse me," said Lex, annoyed, "I hate to break up this emotional reunion, but _who are you_?"

"Guys," said Coat, "this is Davis. He's an Author." He turned to Davis, "Davis, this is Lex, Scar, Carrie, Wolf, Raven, and Newt."

"A pleasure."

"Now, Davis," Coat said seriously, "About all this weird stuff happening. Don't tell me it's you behind it all."

"I wish it was, then we'd probably have quite a bit less to worry about. Actually, Coat, it's Damian."

"Damian," Scar echoed, recognizing the name.

"Damian's here?" said Coat, "I thought he was banned?"

"Didn't we all. But he's back. I got a tip that he was here. He's writing under a different name now, but it's definitely him."

"Damian is an Author?" asked Scar.

Davis and Coat looked at him.

"You know Damian?" said Davis.

"I just met him at Comicon. I knew there was something strange about him..."

"He was creepy," Wolf intoned.

"Why is he so bad?" Lex said.

"Damian has been banned from four different Author Alliances," explained Coat, "He's infamous for abusing his powers in creative ways."

"Ever wonder if you could strangle 57 people in the space of one page?" said Davis, "Just one of his many 'records'."

"Alright, another Author, who is also psychotic," Scar thought aloud, "what exactly are we gonna do about it?"

"What about you, Raven?" Wolf asked the Huntress, "you've been less than verbose."

Raven shook her head as if snapping out of a reverie, "Hmm? Oh, I dunno. I just kinda got stuck on the whole strangling 57 people thing."

Scar rolled his eyes.

"Actually," Davis interjected, "I took the liberty of bringing along my entourage."

Davis opened the door, and from the hallway entered a strange-looking group: A blonde girl in a cheerleader outfit; a short Japanese man wearing glasses; a man with short hair and a scar over his eye (he was wearing a duster); a large man with chiseled features, a pronounced jaw, a shotgun on his back and a chainsaw for his hand; a boy of about seventeen wearing bronze and black armor and a black mask; and a girl of about the boy's age, wearing a dark blue cloak.

"May I introduce to you Claire Bennet, Hiro Nakamura, Peter Petrelli, Ash Williams, Robin and Raven," Davis introduced his entourage respectively.

"Nice to meet you all," Scar said.

"Great to be here," said Ash, "Makes a nice relief from my normal job."

"Here, here," Peter agreed.

"Hey, not cool," Coat said, stepping forward, "Since when are Raven and Robin in your entourage?"

"Since I wrote them into my Heroes/Teen Titans crossover."

"You so ripped that idea off of me."

"I haven't seen it in writing."

"Guys," Claire stopped them, "Let's not start this again."

"Sorry," the Authors said in unison.

"So, do we have a plan?" asked Lex.

"Get to Comicon," said Robin.

"Find Damian," intoned Raven.

"Do what we do best," said Peter.

"Oh," Davis said, "There's one more thing."

\\\\\\\\\\

They stepped into the cool night air, (which was odd, because it was 10 AM), and only then did they realize the scope of the Ambiguity Barrier; it blocked out everything, including the sun. It seemed as though they we're floating on an island in the middle of an infinite black abyss. Once they had gotten used to the Dark Wall (which wasn't easy), one thing was immediately prevalent: a huge, singed and acid scarred Armored Personnel Carrier parked next to the curb.

"Ooh," Coat squeaked, gravitating toward the vehicle, "niiice ride." Shaking himself out of his dazed stupor, he added, "How come you get an APC?"

"Because_ I _have my _license_." Davis replied.

Coat crossed his arms, pouting.

"What exactly is this?" Carrie asked.

"It's an APC!" Newt chipped in, "It's fun to ride in and it crushes aliens' heads like balloons!"

"Interesting," Raven said.

"Well, what're we waiting for?" Coat said jubilantly, climbing up into the vehicle, "Let's see what this puppy can do!"

As soon as he had entered the APC, a high-pitched scream issued forth as Coat stumbled backwards out of the vehicle, landing flat on his tush.

"S-s-s-s-badbadbad!" He stammered.

"What's the matter, _Author_?" came an even, ominous voice. A figure dressed in a hooded coat and a baseball cap stepped out, a half-smile on his unshaven face. "Afraid of a little _headache_?"

"Sylar! BAD GUY ALERT!"

"Relax," said a disembodied voice, "surely the Guy With the Gun himself isn't going to back down from actually _meeting Sylar_?"

"Wait," Coat said, standing, "I know that voice..."

"You certainly do," the voice said. A figure now emerged from the shadows, that of a girl of about 17 years, dressed in a deep purple t-shirt and blue jeans. What was unusual, however, was that over her regular street clothes she wore a long, black cloak and a fedora. "I'm only the one who got you started on the path of the Author."

Coat smiled, "I think that's a bit of an overstatement, Keeper -- "

Before you could say "Opera Ghost", the Cloaked Authoress had drawn a sabre and pressed it into Coat's neck.

"I told you never to call me that. It's the _Keeper of the Cheese_ or _Cheesy_. That's all."

"I have to let you know, _Cheesy_," Coat said, putting his hand at the tip of the razor sharp blade. Slowly, the blade shrank until it was a tiny dagger. "My powers have _doubled_ since we last met."

Cheesy appraised the dagger for a moment, then ignited it into a lightsaber

"So have mine."

"Okey dokey!" Davis suddenly said, stepping between them just as Coat reached for his shotgun. "Man, Coat, what did you do to piss Cheesy off?"

"I haven't updated in a while."

"That's it?"

"It's been a rough lull."

"That's _it_?"

"Hey, writer's block isn't fun! You have to know what that's like, Cheesy."

"Well... I guess," the Authoress said thoughtfully, "Writer's block really is no fun. Call it even?" She extended a hand toward the Author.

"Even," Coat said, shaking her hand. "Now, did you bring all of your entourage?"

"But of course," she said, whistling.

From the shadows stepped a few imposing figures; one, tall, dressed in a tidy black tuxedo, a cape and a fedora, wearing a glossy white half mask. Another, dressed in a ruffled white shirt, tight pants, a leather vest and frizzy blonde hair.

"Oh, come on," Coat said, stepping forward, "No Joker? I thought you were gonna get him and Scarecrow from the Dark Knight universe?"

"Couldn't make it. Apparently, Gotham's pretty busy this time of year."

"Figures," Coat sighed, "But Jareth, Erik, Sylar. Nice catch."

"Catch," Erik scoffed, "Interesting choice of words, but _abduction_ would be more the term."

"You mean she didn't offer you cookies?" Jareth said sarcastically.

"Quit complaining," Cheesy told Jareth, "You said you were bored, remember?"

"Yes, but a good game of chess would've sufficed. I didn't expect traveling to another reality to do battle with slavering beasts."

Off to the side, Coat's own entourage was watching the banter with detached (and confused) fascination.

Scar leaned down to Lex, "Are you getting any of this?"

"Actually, I just stopped paying attention."

"I enjoy watching Cheesy and Coat interact," Raven pointed out, "It's a bit like G'raal and I."

Coat spun, somehow hearing, "Don't even go there."

"Ahem," Sylar cleared his throat, "I know this is going to sound completely unlike me, but shouldn't we… fight evil, or something?"

"An excellent point, but we have to pick someone up, first," said Cheesy.

"Who?" asked Davis.

Cheesy got a strange, smug look on her face.

Davis paled, "No. Not her."

\\\\\\\\\\

At the corner, the APC stopped and the door opened. Waiting there was a group that almost made theirs look mundane; A girl with orange skin and red hair, a man in faded green battle armor, a strange half-man half-fish person, and, of course, the giant brown creature with horns upon which was riding a young teenaged girl with blonde hair. She wore the robe of a Jedi Master, under which was a blue t-shirt and sweatpants. She slid down from the monster and deftly landed on her feet.

"Good boy, Ludo."

The shocked entourage waited in the APC while Cheesy got out and greeted the newcomer.

"Glad you could make it, Nip," said the Authoress.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You're going to have to greet her at some point," Coat said to Davis, who was curled in a ball in the corner of the vehicle. "Might as well get it out of the way."

Davis merely babbled something about "fanservice".

"Is he alright?" asked Scar.

"I don't know," replied Coat.

Outside the APC, Cheesy and Cheese-Nip were still conversing, and the orange-haired-girl was now bear hugging the beast, calling it her "big fuzzy portkin".

Coat let out a shrill whistle, gathering their attention.

"I hate to interrupt Authoress time, but... evil Author; Ambiguity Barrier; Aliens?"

Cheese-Nip looked speculatively at the APC.

"Will we all fit?"

"Don't worry," Coat said with a grin, "It's bigger on the inside."

Indeed it was. In fact, it was several meters in volume, and resembled the interior of a certain Firefly-class transport.

Closing the door after her entourage, Cheese-Nip's face suddenly brightened; she'd spotted Davis.

"Oh, crap," said the Author.

Before he could manage another word, the young Authoress was upon him, catching him in what will be referred to as an "epic glomp".

"Davis, I can't believe you made it!"

"Yeah, good to see you, too, Nip..." Davis returned, turning an unhealthy shade of gray-red. "I... can't... breathe..."

Lex turned to Cheesy, "Do they... um... know each other?"

"What was your first clue?"

) ) )_ Carrie _( ( (

_Watching Nip's reaction to Davis, I can't help but wonder if there's some sort of underlying governing what keeps each Author at bay. _

_Perhaps for Coat it's lack of sleep. _

_For Cheesy, maybe Coat himself. _

_And for Davis, there's Nip. _

_For each impossible power, there's something to balance it out. I find myself more and more hopeful about this suicide mission we're sending ourselves into. We now have a virtual army of fictional characters; I recognize Ludo from Labyrinth, Boba Fett from Star Wars, Abe Sapien from that movie Hellboy, and I believe the orange girl is from Teen Titans. Add to the entourages of Coat, Davis and Cheesy and, well... I think we can take whatever Damian throws at us. _

_As the APC slows in front of the Comicon building, we get out, and armor is dished out. This time I get a shotgun, and I feel ready as I'll ever be._

_But as we head through the front door, I feel something..._

\\\\\\\\\\

Heading through the door, Carrie lagged a bit, winced.

"Are you alright?" asked Wolf.

"Yeah," she said, shaking it off, "I'm fine..."

But, in fact, she wasn't. In a few moments, she'd be rendered quite not alright.

Because Carrie had just gone into labor.


	15. Scar vs Comicon Part III

Don't have much to say this time around, just that I'm once again sorry for the disgustingly long delay (writer's block is _SATAN_). Enjoy the conclusion of Scar vs Comicon, hope it doesn't suck.

AVP and its characters belong to 20th Century Fox.

Erik belongs to Leroux and Weber.

Jareth and Ludo belong to Henson.

Claire, Sylar, Peter, and Hiro belong to NBC.

Starfire, Robin, and Raven are property of Warner Bros.

Fett belongs to Lucas.

Abe Sapien belongs to Mignola, Del Toro, and Dark Horse.

And, of course, Keeper-of-the-Cheese and Cheese Nip belong to themselves. :)

(Whew. Long list.)

\\\\\\\\\\

PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA, APRIL 14, 2005

) ) )_ Wolf _( ( (

_It's high noon right now, but you wouldn't know it from the inky blackness that surrounds the whole city. _

_I can't say I ever expected to find myself in a scenario of this kind; impossible happenings, battling for a cause other than sport or honor, battling to defend my friends… who aren't even all my kind._

_We're now at the Comicon building, preparing for battle. _

_Davis dons a suit of mechanized battle-armour, which makes him easily as tall as me. But of course, armour isn't everything. But it helps._

_Various projectile weapons are handed out, along with blades of varying shapes and sizes._

"_How is this going to play out?" I ask._

_Coat hefts a generous-sized chaingun._

"_Loud."_

_We make our way into the building, when Carrie doubles over, dropping her plasma rifle._

_I have a bad feeling about this._

\\\\\\\\\\

"Carrie, are you alright?" asked Wolf.

"I'm fine," she replied, "Just a stitch."

"Are you going to be okay to fight?" asked Coat.

"Yeah, but if you don't mind, I think I'll take the elevator."

Cheesy turned to Coat, "She shouldn't go alone."

"You're right," Coat said.

"I'll accompany her," Wolf offered.

Lex also chipped in, "I'll come with, too."

"Alright, elevator's that way," Coat said, pointing, "The rest of you, we'll take the stairs. We'll split into teams; team A, left flank; team B, right flank."

He hefted his chaingun in front of him as Davis took his team up the left-hand staircase, and Wolf and Lex led Carrie to the elevator.

"Form up, A-Team (someone snickered at the unintentional joke). Two-by-two, Sylar and Erik, take point."

As they headed up the stairs, Scar turned to Ha'mayen, "Why do I feel like this is going to easy?"

"What do you mean?"

"No guards, no defenses… It like Damien is drawing us in."

"He might be rallying his forces. The source of the Ambiguity Barrier seems to be originating from the 30th floor… perhaps he needs all his strength to maintain it."

"Perhaps," but Scar still sounded uncertain.

\\\\\\\\\\

With two humans and a Predator in the elevator, it was a bit cramped. But Wolf had politely made plenty of room for the women by cramming himself against the wall. The floor counter seemed to creep along, as if something was preventing them from reaching the top.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lex suddenly asked Carrie.

Wolf noticed that the waitress had begun to sweat, and looked like she was trying hard to keep a feeling of pain at bay.

"I'm… I'm okay. Seriously."

Wolf looked down, noting that a small trickle of red liquid was dripping down Carrie's leg. Lex also noticed this.

"Okay, you see that? That's not okay."

Carrie's knees finally buckled, and she clutched her abdomen in pain.

"Okay… I guess you're right…" she said, her voice strained.

Lex knelt down beside her, "You're gonna be alright, Carrie."

"This… cannot… be… happening… now," she replied.

Wolf took a cautious step forward, both wary and curious at once.

"Um… What's wrong with her?"

"You don't know?"

"Not really."

"Wolf, Carrie's in _labor_."

Suddenly, Wolf's curiosity turned to panic. His eyes widened behind his mask.

"Oh, _se-osde thei-de h'ka-se_," Wolf said, his voice small.

\\\\\\\\\\

Davis led his entourage down a long corridor on Floor 30. Robin matched his pace, prompting him to stop.

"This doesn't feel right," the Boy Wonder stated.

"Affirmative," Davis said, "Way too easy."

He motioned for his team to halt, then a signal that meant "get down and shut up."

"What's going down, Davis?" whispered Nip.

"Fork up ahead, no visibility," he said. "Claire, recon."

"Gotcha," the cheerleader inched forward, her shotgun at the ready, and she rounded the left corner.

As soon as she was out of sight, the rest of them heard sounds of a brief struggle, gunshots, and a distinctive "crunch" sound. Claire came back around the corner, her arm limp, her left eye hanging out of its socket.

"Yup," she said, pointing with her good arm, "pretty sure it's this way."

"All units, form ranks!" Davis yelled, "First rank, CHARGE!"

Davis, Robin, Nip and Boba Fett all stormed down the corridor, kneeling into firing positions.

But they weren't ready for what they saw.

Stalking down the corridor was a veritable legion of animated corpses, their mouths gaping, moaning.

"Oh, _crikey_," Davis whispered in a tiny voice.

"Hey, Ash," Nip called, "pretty sure this is your department.

Ash joined them momentarily, "What's up, guys - ?" He saw the approaching horde -- "Oh, yeah. Well…"

"Any ideas?"

"Aim for the head, don't leave any working bits. That's all I got."

"Good enough for me," Davis grinned, "All units, form up and _FIRE AT WILL_!"

The rest of the group joined them in the hallway, using their various weapons to blast away at the undead horde.

"Remember," Davis cried over the din, "Short, controlled bursts. Headshots only!"

"Oh, sure," Boba sarcasized, hefting a Verpine shatter gun, "piece of cake."

It wasn't long before the loping army had advanced, now only a few yards away from them.

"They just don't die!" yelled Nip.

"Just keep firing, their numbers are bound to diminish at some point," Davis said.

"What do we do if they don't diminish?" asked Peter.

"Haven't quite worked that part out yet."

\\\\\\\\\\

Things were a bit easier going for the A-Team (snicker), but that didn't make things any easier.

"Are we there yet?" asked Coat, exhausted.

They'd been climbing spiral staircase for near half an hour.

"Not yet," Sylar replied.

"I think we're in the… teens, somewhere," Cheesy said.

"Tell me when we get to twenty," Coat gasped, "I'm gonna throw up."

Erik took a significant step away from Coat.

"Seriously, are we on an escalator or something?" Scar said, "We don't seem to be getting anywhere."

"It's a possibility; it is within Damien's powers to do so," Cheesy offered.

"But why use them to simply keep us on the stairs?" asked Ha'mayen, "Couldn't he have prevented us from even entering?"

"Good point; not sure."

They continued their trudge up the stairs, nothing but staircase in sight.

Then, they saw nothing.

"Wassat?" Coat's voice said.

"Power's been shut off," Scar said. "Apparently Damien has a few other things in store for us."

"Hold on a sec," Coat said.

A second later, a road flare lit up, illuminating the staircase in a flickering red glow.

And revealing a drooling, biomechanical face.

\\\\\\\\\\

In the elevator, Carrie was now laying on the floor, screaming. Then the lights went out.

"What now?!" Wolf asked nervously.

"Power must be out," Lex observed. "We've stopped moving."

"Oh, great," Wolf groaned.

"What're you worried about, Wolf?"

"That," the Predator replied, pointing to  
Carrie.

"What," Lex said incredulously, "You've never seen a woman in labor before?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"You've never been married? Never had any kids?"

"Never."

"You're four-hundred years old and you've never had any kids?"

"You want me to say it again?" Wolf's voice began to crack.

"You've gotta be kidding," the comment was meant to be snippy, but Wolf could swear she was suppressing laughter.

\\\\\\\\\\

Davis had told Starfire to use her powers to replace the light, and now things were even worse, the undead army cast into sharp relief in the dim green glow. But it was enough light to see that new soldiers had joined the ranks of the zombies; a swarm of facehuggers.

"Facemasks, people," Davis screamed, "Double time!"

His team hurriedly fitted themselves with facehugger-proof cage-masks that would not only afford them protection against the parasites, but also night vision.

But the zombies were not so lucky.

The facehuggers leapt onto the undead, soon after dropping off, dead.

"Aim for the infected ones, quick!"

But because of some strange alteration, the chestbursting process sped up immensely; before any actions could be taken, zombies' chests were bursting open left and right.

Strange pygmy-aliens leapt out, gray and necrotic.

"Now, there's something you don't see everyday," Peter said.

Davis turned to Hiro, "Hey, you think you could possibly… y'know… buy us some time?"

Hiro's eyes scrunched together in concentration, but after a moment, nothing happened.

"I don't know what's wrong," he said, "Something must be blocking my powers."

"Same here," said Peter.

"Peachy," was Davis' reply.

Now, instead of zombies, they were now facing down a horde of both human _and_ alien undead.

"Alright," said Nip, "now what?"

"I'm outta ideas," Davis said.

"You, Ash?"

"Uh... Right now I'm pretty much terrified beyond rational thought."

"So..." Peter chimed in, "How about retreat?"

"Good idea. All for retreat, promptly turn around and haul it!"

They all obliged.

\\\\\\\\\\

On the stairs, things were definitely no less interesting. The biomechanical face belonged, in fact, to a rather angry Xenomorph praetorian. A praetorian that decided that it wanted to put its inner mouth through Coat's face.

Now, Coat normally doesn't like it when aliens want to make holes in his face. That's exactly why, as its mouth opened to strike, the praetorian suddenly found its cranium full of buckshot.

As its steaming body slumped to the floor, Coat holstered his shotgun and looked upward, at a sign at the opening to the hall.

"Floor 30. Guess that explains the guard."

"Just one?" asked Scar.

"Seems to be following a pattern," Raven contributed.

"Agreed," Coat said, "But we're as prepared as we'll ever be. If Damien is anywhere, he's down this hall. Now let's get going."

Agreeing, they started down the long, ominous corridor. Just as Coat brought up the rear, the body of the praetorian twitched, burst into action. Its tail lunged upward, right through Coat's chest.

"What the...?" the Author breathed.

As he slumped in pain, Sylar took action by cutting the alien's long head in half with a flick of his fingers. He could swear the thing was laughing evilly. Everyone else rushed over to the fallen Author, who was now creating a wide, crimson puddle on the floor.

"I'll be f-fine," Coat said, his voice weak. "I'll be fixed up in a few. Just t-takes a little l-longer for the b-big stuff."

"Are you sure?" Ha'mayen asked.

"He'll be fine," Cheesy said. "Takes more than a little knick like that to keep an Author down, right Coat?"

He smiled faintly, "You know it, Cheesy."

"Coat," Scar said, "We can't do this without you."

"Sure you can, Scar. I have every faith that you guys are gonna noob-slap that sissy Damien. I know I couldn't have picked a finer team of weird, fictional characters to hang out with," he coughed some blood, "So, get to it. I'll stay here; I just need a little sleep."

As his eyes closed, the rest of the group reluctantly turned down the hallway.

"Trust me. He'll be fine," Cheesy reiterated.

"I just hope we'll be enough to win this thing," Scar said, taking point.

Going into a situation such as this, however, Scar couldn't help feeling a little pessimistic. Damian had practically the entire world under his thumb, and he had even managed to disable one of the only people capable of defeating him. But hey, it's not like he hadn't faced impossible odds before.

After all, that was pretty much his job.

\\\\\\\\\\

"We seriously retreated from a hundred pygmy zombie aliens," Davis gasped, trying to catch his breath. They had run down two flights of stairs to escape the freakish horde.

"Yeah, we did," said Boba. "Any idea why?"

"Damien must be more powerful than we ever thought. He's toying with us."

"Twisted little _d'ikut_."

"We should try and find another way to the top," Nip said.

"We're low on ammo," Davis said, "and I'm too exhausted to order more."

"And on top of _that_;" Claire said, looking around the corner. Sounds of moaning and shrieking were making the oncoming army obvious.

"This day is becoming way too long," Davis sighed.

\\\\\\\\\\

"Lobby," Wolf said once more, slamming the elevator button with his thumb. "Lobby lobby lobbylobby..."

Trying to comfort Carrie, Lex was fighting a loosing battle; the waitress was now writhing on the floor.

"Wolf, pushing it more isn't going to make the power come back."

"You're probably right," Wolf practically whimpered, then turned back to the button. "Lobbylobbylobbylobby..."

\\\\\\\\\\

"DAMIEN!!" Scar called out, his voice booming and intimidating. The door they had opened had unsurprisingly lead to a room that could not have possibly been contained to the hotel; a large warehouse. It echoed eerily with sounds of dripping water and creaking.

"So, you finally decided to show up."

The voice came from a distant corner of the room, where shadows blanketed the floor. The odd group of warriors all drew their various weapons.

"Given you guys' track record, I am sorely disappointed."

The shadows seemed to gather, mold, grow out of the floor, until they formed into the shape of a long, black duster. Damien stepped forth to greet them.

"My, my, what an odd looking bunch. All except you, Cheesy; you look more lovely each time I see you."

Cheesy growled deep in her throat, a murderous glare in her eye.

"You'll pay for what you've done," she said.

"You hurt Coat you little _S'yuit-de –_-"

Scar raised his wristblades – extended to their full length – and rammed them right through Damien's chest.

Damien's eyes went wide as he gasped, but the gasp immediately gave way to a sly smirk.

"Tisk, tisk, Scar."

He pulled himself away from the blades, the silver now stained totally with red.

"We wouldn't want to start the festivities early, would we? That'd take all the fun out of it."

"We'll make sure this is at least fun for _us_," Sylar said. "Not much fun when you're dead."

Damien smiled, "And how were you planning on killing me?"

"I'll cut your head off," Sylar smirked, "See how that works."

"You'll have a hard time of that. See, I've made a few friends in my wanderings."

With a wave of his hand, an entire army materialized.

Standing behind Damien was H.R. Giger's worst nightmare; biomechanical freaks were crammed into the warehouse from wall to wall.

Damien was suddenly standing on top of a podium behind them all.

"Try _that_ on for size!" he dared ecstatically, "Gentlemen, you... may... BEGIN!"

The horde lurched forward.

"That's just _dandy_," Ha'mayen observed.

"Don't worry," Cheesy said, a sly look on her face, "I've got him right where I want him."

\\\\\\\\\\

Davis slapped his last full clip into his assault rifle. The blue ammo counter flashed "60" in the dim light. Condensation fogged his tinted visor, and he adjusted the environmental controls accordingly. He looked around at the rest of the team, noted their haggard, tired expressions and knew that they wouldn't win this fight.

Nip had pulled out her last few grenades, was loading them into her M41A pulse rifle. Her expression was uncharacteristically glum.

"Nip," Davis said. Nip looked up from her work, gave a weak smile. "If we don't get out of this, I want you to know; it's been fun."

Nip flashed a larger smile, "If you didn't have a helmet on right now, I'd probably kiss you."

Davis cocked a half-smile, "thank goodness for standard military outfitting."

"Pardon."

Abe had come up behind them, looking quite ridiculous wearing his breathing apparatus _and_ full UNSC battle armour.

"I thought you should know, we have company."

He pointed, and Davis turned; the undead horde was barely a few meters out from them.

"Holy -- !"

Nip cut him short when she launched a grenade from her rifle, scattering a huge dent in the horde. But the advance had not even slowed.

"Form up and prepare to fire."

The rest of the team formed a firing squad-type formation, front ranks kneeling.

"It's been an honor serving with you all," Davis said.

An alien shrieked.

"FIRE!!!"

Gunfire roared throughout the hallway, illuminating the otherwise dark space.

Then suddenly –

POP!!

There was nothing.

No zombies.

No aliens.

No horde.

Just gone.

"What the _fierfek_?" Boba commented.

"It's Damien," Davis said, smiling, "He must be lumping his powers. He can't maintain the horde!"

"Groovy," said Ash.

"But," Nip said, "if he can't maintain the forces down here, what's he got brewing on floor 30?"

\\\\\\\\\\

"I am really starting to get angry!" Scar said as he killed an abomination with an arm for a tongue.

"We can't hope to win this," Ha'mayen said, "there's too many!"

"Just a few more seconds," Cheesy said. She was huddled on one knee in the corner, working on something, "that's all I need."

"Easy for you to say," Scar said.

Damien was suddenly standing right in front of Scar.

"You guys are all morons," he said, "Even if you beat my army, how could you stop me?"

Scar swiped at him, but Damien inhumanly ducked, grabbed Scar's arm. He gave it a sharp twist, and a loud CRACK was heard. Scar slumped to his knees.

Damien's eyes burned like those of a madman as he said, "I'm stronger than any of your precious Authors."

"How about ten?"

Cheesy had turned to glare at him, smiling smugly.

A storm suddenly brewed above them, black clouds roiling angrily over the horde. Blue lightening spewed forth, striking in several spots around the horde.

Damien's eyes widened.

From the bolts stepped several figures dressed in varying attire; trenchcoats, t-shirts, Mjolnir armour.

They all brandished flamethrowers as they effortlessly cut down the gruesome horde.

"It...can't...be..." Damien gasped. "The Grand Council of Authors?"

A beam of light shot from the storm, piercing Damien's body and holding him in place. The Authors stood around him, including Cheesy.

"This can't be happening!" he shrieked.

"You better believe it," said a familiar voice. From the door entered Coat, perfectly healed. "You been a bad boy, Damien."

"No...NO! You're dead... I killed you!"

Coat smiled, "You know better than that, buddy."

From the door entered Davis, Nip, and their respective teams.

"Sorry we're late," Davis said, "We got delayed."

"Understandable," Coat said.

Nip and Davis joined the rest of the Authors. Altogether, they made ten.

"You know we can't overlook your actions again, Damien," Coat said. "And you know the price."

Damien's eyes widened even more.

"No... you can't!!"

"We can," Cheesy said.

"You will be banished to the next adjoining universe," said one Author dressed in a Jedi robe, "there to live out an eternity's sentence in purgatory, from which there is no escape. Cheese-Nip, read the charges."

Nip came forth, carrying a scroll.

"You, Damien, are hereby charged that you did, on numerous dates, commit severe violations of the Code of Authors, those of which are as follows: Disturbing the peace, 300 accounts. Inappropriate use of powers, 921 accounts. Murder of fictional characters, 810 accounts. Excessive profanity, 4006 accounts. Improper grammar, 30,016 counts. Along with various accounts of lawlessness, malice, and general ickyness."

The Jedi Author once more stepped forward.

"Before Coat proceeds with the sentence, do you have any last words?"

Damien smiled evilly.

"I'll be back."

"Very well. Coat, bring forth the Ban Hammer."

Coat produced a huge Gravity Hammer that hummed with blue energy.

"All who support the sentence of Damien, say aye."

"Aye," the Ten said in unison.

"Coat," said the Jedi Author, "you may proceed."

Coat got a running start and, yelling a fierce war shriek, swung the Hammer at Damien.

All at one, the evil Author was gone.

Immediately the lights flickered on, and it felt as if a weight had been lifted off of the entire building.

"He's gone," he flexed his now healed wrist. "_Kantra Paya h'ka-se_."

"I've got reports coming in from the outside," Boba said, "The Ambiguity Barrier is gone."

"Yatta!" Hiro shouted, throwing his arms into the air.

"Another _nain-desintye-de_," Coat smiled, "What say we all relax? Waffles on me!"

Everyone threw their arms into the air, cheering. All Yautja that were wearing them threw their masks into the air.

"Wait a minute," said Cheesy, "What about Wolf and Lex and Carrie?"

\\\\\\\\\\

The elevator door opened, and Coat was relieved to find that everyone was okay. Lex was sitting next to Carrie, who was curled up in the corner with her original twins. Though they had biomechanical protrusions around their bodies, they were the cutest human babies Scar had ever seen.

"Wow," Coat said, "um... congrats, Carrie."

Carrie smiled, "thanks."

Wolf was standing at the opposite side of the elevator, looking terrified. Several infant human-aliens crawled on him, sniffing him curiously.

"_Kantra, ki'dte z'skvy-de_," he whispered.

\\\\\\\\\\

The National Guard was a little late.

Although, that wasn't really their fault, given the whole Ambiguity Barrier and everything.

They secured the area, and Comicon had to be moved elsewhere. It continued as planned, however, and the entire strange group of Authors and characters attended. They even met a few other Authors who had heard about the incident and decided to investigate... after the initial fighting was over, of course.

Yes, it was the vacation of a lifetime, and they would never forget it.

Especially those who had almost died.

Once the festivities were over, it was decided that they should drive home in Davis' APC, as it would be a little difficult to get Carrie's new arrivals onto a plane.

After coffee at Coat's favorite Starbucks, it was time to part ways.

"Let's not wait until the next update to get together," Cheesy said to Coat.

"I'll remember that," Coat said.

"See ya!" Davis said as the three Authors exited the coffee shop.

"I'm gonna miss them," Newt said.

"Me too," said Coat.

"Wow," Lex said, "I really don't think I'm ever gonna get used to this Author stuff."

"Me neither," Scar said, "But whenever bad freakiness begins to happen, I find it quite comforting to know that there'll always be somebody there who knows exactly how to deal with said freakiness."

"Here, here," said Wolf.

Raven raised her cup, "to the Authors, and everyone else, without whom we would never have any fun."

They all raised their cups and toasted.

Coat smiled.

"I am so freaking happy right now."

\\\\\\\\\\

This is dedicated to anyone out there who's still reading this. If you are, you are too awesome for words, and you're more patient than me :)

Well, that's it for Comicon. But keep your eyes and ears open, because I'm not done yet. In fact, the way I see it, it's only just begun!


	16. Scar vs Comicon Epilogue

This is just a little something that would be "after the credits" so to speak. Enjoy!

Yeah, and AVP belongs to Fox and all this stuff and things...

\\\\\\\\\\

MANHATTAN ISLAND, APRIL 16, 2005

1:21 AM

Coat was exhausted.

He had the right to be... he had died.

But his instincts as an Author burned in the back of his skull like some whacked-out spider-sense, keeping his brain afloat in the ocean of thousands of sleeping people.

But he lived in Manhattan.

Not quite the city that never sleeps, but so what. It was the state that never sleeps. So what?

He trudged through his apartment door, his trenchcoat dragging a little lower to the ground than normal. He flicked on the lights, glad to see a familiar sight after what had only been a weekend but what had felt like months (cough ... oh, sorry, was that me? Well, carry on, then...).

In the kitchen, Coat found that Chet was once more sleeping on top of the coffee machine. He gently scooped her up like a puppy and placed her on the floor; her mouth fell open, her tongue lolling on the checker-tiled floor.

Coat withdrew a new back of dark roast from the cabinet, opened it, and inhaled the aroma; he was instantly rejuvenated, but only slightly.

He pulled out a filter, loaded it into the machine, and started spooning the grounds into the cup.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

_Screw it_.

Coat turned the bag upside-down and emptied the entire contents into the filter. The fine particles overflowed onto the counter, but Coat really didn't take heed.

The coffee percolated into the pitcher, thick and black.

_Looks a bit like blood_, Coat thought morbidly. _Black, caffeinated blood_.

He poured himself a cup, and began to sip the molasses-like liquid.

His muscles instantly relaxed, and his senses immediately grew sharper.

He took the mug out into the main room, popped "Resident Evil" into his DVD player, and turned the massive TV on.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye –

_Movement, three o' clock_, His brain told him. _Take immediate action_.

Before he even registered the thought, his 12-gauge was in his hand, cocked, and aimed into the darkness.

"Who's there?" He said.

"Please," a voice said. It was small, belonging to a small girl; maybe eleven, twelve. "Don't hurt me."

Coat slowly turned up the lights; in the corner was indeed a small girl. She had pale skin, unnaturally blonde hair, and a black stripe painted across her eyes. He attire hailed to a not-so-distant future.

"My name's Pris," the girl said, still cringing from the rifle still aimed at her head.

"What?" Coat said, confused.

"Where am I?" Pris asked.

"_What?_"

"Can you help me find my friends?"

Coat paused.

"..._What?!?_"

\\\\\\\\\\

End Miniseries.


End file.
